3./*.  2. 


LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


PRINCETON,  N.  J 


Division 


Section. 


¥4So 


HYMNS  OF  THE  AGES. 


Uniform  with  this   Volumt 


HYMNS     OF     THE    AGES. 

SECOND     SERIES. 

Being  Selections  from  Wither,  Crafhaw,  Southwell,  Habing- 
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Fine  editions  of  this  Work,  the  Firft  and  Second  Series, 
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TICKNOR  AND   FIELDS. 


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HYMNS    OF    THE    AGES. 


BEING 


SELECTIONS  FROM  LYRA  CATHOLIC  A,  GERMANIC  A 
APOSTOLICA,    AND   OTHER   SOURCES. 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION 

By  REV.   F.   D.   HUNTINGTON,  D.  D. 


FIRST    SERIES. 


BOSTON: 
TICKNOR     AND     FIELDS 

M  DCCC  LXIII. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858, 

By  Phillips,  Sampson,  and  Company, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


RIVERSIDE,   CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BY 

H.    O.    HOUGHTON    AND    COMPANY 


1 


PREFACE 


IT  has  been  our  purpose  in  compiling  this  vol- 
ume, to  bring  together,  irrespective  of  creed 
and  in  a  convenient  form,  some  of  the  best  sacred 
poetry,  such  as  contains  quiet  thoughts  for  quiet 
hours, — devotional,  comforting,  peaceful. 

We  have  therefore  in  several  instances  omitted 
hymns  which  deservedly  rank  among  the  best,  and 
in  those  from  the  Lyra  Catholica  have  made  a  few 
slight  alterations. 

Preferring  the  older  hymns  as  less  known,  and 
richer  in  association,  we  have  not  limited  ourselves 
to  these  :  whatever  seemed  to  belong  in  the  book 
we  have  placed  here,  not  carelessly,  yet  caring  little 
for  its  outward  source.  If  it  be  true  that  all  along 
the  ages  and  amid  all  varying  phases  of  belief,  the 


VI 


Preface. 


human  heart  is  the  same,  and  if  this  in  the  hymns 
before  us,  has  chanted  its  yearnings,  and  doubts,  and 
comforts,  and  heavenward  hopes,  in  the  one  great 
temple  whose  roof  overarches  all  our  creeds,  need 
we  ask  whether  the  strain  first  stole  from  desk  or 
aisle,  from  monkish  crypt  or  kingly  chapel,  from 
the    soul    of  a  heart-broken    sinner,  or   canonized 

saint  % 

The  heart  of  humanity  in  its  highest,  deepest 
moods  has  spoken  here,  still  speaks;  and  the  Divine 
heart  has  listened,  listens  still  as  we  believe,  to  the* 
tender  and  glorious  songs. 


C.  S.  w. 
a.  E.  G. 


July,  1858. 


PREFACE 

TO   THE    LYRA    CATHOLICA. 


COMPETENT  and  willing  hands  have  been 
found  to  do  the  grateful  work  of  making 
these  selections  of  rare  and  beautiful  poetry.  Most 
of  the  pieces,  not  all,  are  culled  from  the  rich  and 
hallowed  minstrelsy  of  the  Catholic  Communion, — 
the  time  being  quite  come  when  Christians  who 
would  be  truly  catholic,  cannot  afford  to  lose  the 
nourishment  and  consolation  for  the  inward  life, 
which  any  branch  of  Christ's  Body  supplies.  To 
most  Protestants  these  pieces  will  be  new.  By  a 
few,  some  of  them  will  be  greeted  as  acquaintances 
already  familiar  and  endeared,  the  companions  of 
many  sacred  hours.  The  present  writer's  office  is 
merely  to  pass  on  to  the  public  what  the  taste  and 
veneration  of  two  friends  have  made  ready.     With- 


Vlll 


Preface  to  the  Lyra  Catholic  a. 


out  undertaking  to  commend  these  noble  and  grace- 
ful productions,  he  would  only  invite  the  inquiry 
whether  the  elements  and  influences  united  in  them, 
are  not  precisely  such  as  the  religious  culture  of  our 
time  and  region  needs;  whether  the  nameless  quali- 
ty of  genuine  sacred  poetry  is  not  in  them,  in  a  re- 
markable measure;  whether  the  energy  and  fire  of 
original  genius  are  not  finely  blended  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  quiet  heart  and  a  deep  spirituality ; 
whether  the  facts,  the  materials,  the  symbols,  the 
persons,  all  the  outward  forms  and  events  through 
which  the  Eternal  Word  is  revealed,  are  not  here 
so  delicately  and  vigorously  touched  as  to  render 
them  powerful  attractions  to  a  holy  life ;  and  wheth- 
er devotion  is  not  likely  to  grow  ardent  and  firm 
where  the  inmost  soul  of  man  is  so  humbly  thrown 
open,  as  here,  to  the  personal  approaches  of  his 
Maker  and  Redeemer. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  those  readers  who  are 
first  introduced  to  the  treasures  of  devout  poetry  in 
the  Old  Church  by  this  volume,  to  know  that  the 
Lyra  Catholica  most  in  use  in  this  country  is  a  re- 


Preface  to  the  Lyra  Catholica. 


publication  and  enlargement  of  an  English  collec- 
tion, of  the  same  name,  compiled  and  translated  by 
Edward  Caswall  in  1849, — extracts  from  whose 
preface  are  given  below.  The  American  work  is 
published  by  Edward  Dunigan  and  brother,  of  New 
York,  whose  kindness  and  courtesy  in  allowing  the 
present  abridgment  are  cordially  acknowledged.  It 
includes  three  parts  :  1.  The  Hymns  of  the  Roman 
Breviary  and  Missal,  with  others  adapted  to  the  an- 
nual Festivals  of  the  Church;  2.  Hymns,  Anthems, 
and  Holy  Lyrics,  appropriate  to  particular  occa- 
sions of  devotion;  3.  Sacred  Poems  less  intimately 
related  to  ecclesiastical  services,  selected  from  both 
Catholic  and  Protestant  writers. 

From  the  whole  vast  range  of  Christian  thought, 
experience,  and  imagination,  therefore, — from  the 
fresh  melodies  lifted  in  the  morning  air  of  the 
Christian  ages, — from  that  long  line  of  consecrated 
and  aspiring  singers  reaching  back  to  the  days  of 
Constantine, — from  among  the  lofty  strains  of  Am- 
brose and  Jerome  and  their  strong  fellow-believers, 
where  the  sanctity  of  centuries  is  so  wrought,  like 
an    invisible    aroma,   into  the   very   substance   and 


Preface  to  the  Lyra  Catholica. 


structure  of  the  verses,  that  it  would  seem  as  if 
some  prophetic  sense  of  their  immortality  had 
breathed  in  the  men  that  wrote  them, — from  the 
secret  cells  and  the  high  cathedrals  of  the  Continen- 
tal worship,  where  scholarship,  and  art,  and  power 
joined  with  piety  to  raise  the  Lauds  and  Glorias, 
the  Matins  and  Vespers,  the  Sequences  and  the 
Choral  Harmonies  of  a  gorgeously  appointed 
praise? — from  the  purer  literature  of  Old  England, 
embracing  the  tender  and  earnest  numbers  of  South- 
well, and  Crashaw,  and  Habington,  and  a  multitude 
better  known  besides,— these  voices  of  Faith  are 
reverently  gathered  into  their  perfect  harmony. 

The  volume  is  offered  to  the  thoughtful  portion 
of  our  community,  with  a  cheerful  confidence  that 
it  will  fulfil  an  elevating,  purifying,  comforting 
ministry  in  many  hearts,  closets,  and  homes.  Nor 
will  its  worth  fail  to  be  the  more  cordially  con- 
fessed in  many  quarters,  because  so  much  in  it 
favors  the  general  tendency  to  recognize  the  observ- 
ances and  associations  of  the  Christian  \  ear. 


Cambridge,  June  1858. 


F.  D.  H, 


EXTRACTS 

From  the  Preface  of  Edward  Caswall,  M.  A.,  to  his 
Lyra  Catholic  a. 

It  has  been  the  object  to  exhibit  for  the  firft  time  in 
an  Englifh  form,  the  entire  series  of  those  divine  Hymns, 
which,  in  their  Latin  originals,  have  through  ages  been, 
and  ftill  continue  to  be,  to  countless  saintly  souls,  the  joy 
and  consolation  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage. 

"  The  present  contribution  to  the  exifting  ftore  of  Cath- 
olic vernacular  Hymns,  confifts  of  three  portions.  The 
firft,  and  by  far  the  largeft  portion,  comprehends  all  the 
Hymns  in  the  Roman  Breviary,  including  those  in  the  Of- 
flcia  Sanctorum  Angliae  ;  the  second  portion  comprises  the 
Hymns  and  Sequences  of  the  Rpman  Miflal ;  and  the 
third  confifts  of  Hymns  from  various  sources.  Of  these 
latter  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  Hymns  on  the  Nativity, 
Annunciation,  and  Vifitation,  of  our  Blefled  Lady,  as  also 
those  to  St.  Anne,  St.  Stephen,  and  St.  John  the  Evange- 
lift,  are  from  the  Monaftic  Breviary  of  Cluny  ;  those  on 
the  Purification  and  the  AfTumption,  the  Hymn  to  Jesus, 
and  that  for  Sunday  Morning,  from  the  Parifian  Breviary  ; 
and  those  to  St.  Joseph,  St.  Peter,  St.  Paul,  and  St.  Pius 
the  Fifth,  from  the  Raccolta  delle  Indulgence. 

"  As  respects  the  Hymns  in  general,  it  may  be  useful 
to  remark,  that  the  greater  number  of  them  appear  to 
have  been  originally  written,  not  with  a  view  to  private 


xii  Preface. 

reading,  but  for  the  purpose  of  being  sung  to  the  beautiful 
ecclefiaftical  melodies  by  Monaftic  and  other  Religious 
Bodies  at  their  Office  in  Choir.  This  circumftance  will 
serve  to  explain  a  few  scattered  exprefiions,  which  other- 
wise might  seem  unreal  ;  as,  for  inftance,  where  allufions 
occur  to  the  practice  of  rifing  at  midnight  to  fing  praises 
to  God  ; — and  if,  on  the  one  hand,  some  few  of  the 
Hymns  may  so  far  appear  less  adapted  to  the  use  of  per- 
sons living  in  the  world,  it  is  our  gain  surely,  on  the  other 
hand,  thus,  by  occafional  glimpses,  to  be  reminded  of  that 
more  perfect  life,  which  has  never  ceased  to  be  a  reality  in 
the  Catholic  Church. 

"  Another  advantage,  which  we  owe,  doubtless,  in  a 
measure,  to  the  same  circumftance — an  advantage  not  to 
be  despised  in  a  sentimental  age — is  the  exceedingly  plain 
and  practical  character  of  these  Hymns.  Written  with  a 
view  to  conftant  daily  use,  they  aim  at  something  more 
than  merely  exciting  the  feelings.  They  have  a  perpetual 
reference  to  action.  Their  character  is  eminently  objec- 
tive. Their  tendency  is,  to  take  the  individual  out  of 
himself ;  to  set  before  him,  in  turn,  all  the  varied  and  sub- 
lime Objects  of  Faith  ;  and  to  blend  him  with  the  uni- 
versal family  of  the  Faithful. 

"  And  here,  although  the  Tranflator  may  seem  to  be 
pleading  his  own  cause,  yet  he  cannot  refrain  from  observ- 
ing, that  truly  poetical  as  are  many  of  these  Hymns,  as  in- 
deed well  befits  the  sacred  outpourings  of  Chrift's  tender 
Spouse,  ftill,  as  a  whole,  the  devotional  is  their  primary 
and  leaft  disappointing  aspect.  Whoever  attempts  to  read 
them  as  mere  poetry,  will  obtain  from  them  little  of  that 


Preface. 


Xlll 


delight  which  they  are  capable  of  inspiring.  And  as  this 
is  true  of  the  original  Latin,  so  it  is  truer  ftill  of  the 
Hymns  as  they  appear  in  the  present  tranflation  \  in 
which,  it  is  to  be  feared,  the  unadorned  fimplicity  of  the 
prototype  has  too  often  degenerated  into  plainness  ;  while 
its  beauties  have  been  faintly  reflected,  and  their  clear  edge 
blunted  in  patting  through  a  too  earthly  medium." 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

LYRA    CATHOLICA 

MAT  (NS 3 

VESPERS 19 

ASPIRATION 23 

SELF-CONSECRATION 29 

TRUST 39 

PRAYER 50 

ENCOURAGEMENT 56 

SELF-EXAMINATION 6 1 

CHRIST 73 

SAINTS,    MARTYRS,   &C I OO 

COMMUNION    SERVICE 1 1 6 

DEDICATION    OF   A   CHURCH 1 1 9 

MISCELLANEOUS 122 

LYRA   GERMANICA 137 

LYRA  APOSTOLICA 179 

LYRA   INNOCENTIUM 193 

MISCELLANEOUS 215 


LYRA    CATHOLICA. 


MATINS. 

O   BLEST  Creator  of  the  light ! 
Who  doft  the  dawn  from  darkness  bring ; 
And  framing  Nature's  depth  and  height, 
Didft  with  the  new-born  light  begin  ; 

Who  gently  blending  eve  with  morn, 

And  morn  with  eve,  didft  call  them  day  : — 

Thick  flows  the  flood  of  darkness  down  ; 
Oh,  hear  us  as  we  weep  and  pray  ! 

Keep  thou  our  souls  from  schemes  of  crime  ; 

Nor  guilt  remorseful  let  them  know  ; 
Nor,  thinking  but  on  things  of  time, 

Into  eternal  darkness  go. 

Teach  us  to  knock  at  Heaven's  high  door  ; 

Teach  us  the  prize  of  life  to  win  ; 
Teach   us  all  evil  to  abhor, 

And  purify  ourselves  within. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


VTOW  doth  the  sun  ascend  the  fky, 
-^  ^     And  wake  creation  with   its  ray  ; 
Keep  us  from  fin,  O  Lord  mod  high  ! 
Through  all  the  actions  of  the  day. 

Curb  Thou  for  us  th'   unruly  tongue  ; 

Teach   us  the  way  of  peace  to  prize  ; 
And  close  our  eyes  againff.  the  throng 

Of  earth's  absorbing  vanities. 

Oh,  may  our  hearts  be  pure  within  ! 

No  cherifh'd  madness  vex  the  soul ! 
May  abftinence  the  flefh   retrain, 

And  its  rebellious  pride  control. 

So  when  the  evening  ftars  appear, 

And  in  their  train  the  darkness  bring ; 

May  we,  O  Lord,  with  conscience  clear, 
Our  praise  to  thy  pure  glory  fmg. 

Breviary 


<S&&3> 


Matins. 


OUR  limbs  with  tranquil  fleep  refrefh'd 
Lightly  from  bed  we  spring  j 
Father  supreme!  to  us  be  nigh 
While  to  thy  praise  we  sing. 

Thy  love  be  firfl  in  every  heart 

Thy  name  on  every  tongue  ; 
Whatever   we  this  day  may  do, 

May  it  in  Thee  be  done. 

Soon  will  the  morning  ftar  arise, 

And  chase  the  dufk  away ; 
Whatever  guilt  has  come  with  night, 

May  it  depart  with  day. 

Cut  off  in  us,  Almighty  Lord, 

All  that  may  lead  to  fhame  ; 
So  with  pure  hearts  may  we  in  bliss 

Thine  endless  praise  proclaim. 


Breviary. 


Matins. 


GREAT  Framer  of  the  earth  and  fky, 
Who  doft  the  light  and  darkness  give! 
And  all  the  cheerful  change  supply 
Of  alternating  morn  and  eve! 

Light  of  the  midnight  traveller  ! 

Who  doft  divide  the  day  from  night ! — 
Loud  crows  the  dawn's  fhrill  harbinger, 

And  wakens  up  the  sunbeams  bright. 

Forthwith  at  this,  the  darkness  chill 
Retreats  before  the  ftar  of  morn  ; 

And  from  their  busy  schemes  of  ill, 
The  vagrant  crews  of  night  return. 

Frefh  hope,  at  this,  the  sailor  cheers  ; 

The  waves  their  ftormy   ftrife  allay ; 
The  Church's  Rock  at  this,  in  tears, 

Haftens  to  warn  his  guilt  away. 

Arise  ye,  then,  with  one  accord ! 

Nor  longer  wrapt  in  {lumber  lie  ; 
The  cock  rebukes  all  who  their  Lord 

By  floth  neglect,  by  fin  deny. 


Matins. 


At  his  clear  cry  joy  springs  afrefh  ; 

Health  courses  through  the  sick  man's  veins  ; 
The  dagger  glides  into  its  fheath  ; 

The  fallen  soul  her  faith  regains. 

Jesu  !   look  on  us  when  we  fall  ; — 

One  momentary  glance  of  thine 
Can  from  her  guilt  the  soul  recall 

To  tears  of  penitence  divine. 

Awake  us  from  false  fleep  profound, 
And  through  our  senses  pour  thy  light ; 

Be  thy  bleft  name  the  firft  we  sound 
At  early  dawn,  the  laft  at  night. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 


COME,   Holy  Ghoft,  and  through  each   heart 
In  thy   full  flood  of  glory  pour  ; 
Who,  with  the  Son  and  Father,  art 
One  Godhead  bleft  for  evermore. 

So  mail  voice,  mind,  and  ftrength  conspire 

Thy  praise  eternal  to  resound  ; 
So  mall  our  hearts  be  set  on  fire, 

And  kindle  every  heart  around. 

Father  of  mercies  !   hear  our  cry  j 

Hear  us,  O  sole-begotten  Son  ! 

Who,  with  the  Holy  Ghoft  moft  high, 

Reigneft  while  endless  ages  run. 

Breviary. 


LORD  of  eternal  truth  and  might! 
Ruler  of  nature's  changing  scheme  ! 
Who  doft  bring  forth  the  morning  light, 
And  temper  noon's  effulgent  beam  : 

Quench  Thou  in  us  the  flames  of  ftrife, 
And  bid  the  heat  of  passion  cease  ; 

From  perils  guard  our  feeble  life, 

And  keep  our  souls  in  perfect  peace. 

Breviary 


Matins. 


Rerum  Deus  tenax  vigor. 

OTHOU   true  life  of  all  that  live! 
Who  doft,  unmoved,  all  motion  sway  ; 
Who  doft  the  morn  and  evening  give, 
And  through  its  changes  guide  the  day  : 

Thy  light  upon  our  evening  pour, — 

So  may  our  souls  no  sunset  see  ; 
But  death  to  us  an  open  door 

To  an  eternal  morning  be. 

Father  of  mercies  !   hear  our  cry  ; 

Hear  us,  O  sole-begotten  Son  ! 
Who,  with  the   Holy  Ghoft   molt  high, 

Reigneft  while  endless  ages  run. 

Breviary. 


LET  us  arise  and  watch  ere  dawn  of  light, 
And  to  the  Lord  our  hearts  and  voices  raise 
And  meditate  in  psalms,  and  all  unite 
In  holy  hymns  of  praise. 

So  joining  in  the  ftrains  of  saints  on  high 
Hereafter,  in  the  courts  of  heaven's  great  King, 
May  we  be  meet  his  praise  eternally 
With  them  in  bliss  to  sing. 

Breviary. 


10 


Matins. 


OTHOU  the  Father's  Image  bleft  ! 
Who  calleft  forth  the  morning  ray  ; 
O  Thou  eternal  Light  of  light  ! 
And  inexhauftive  Fount  of  day  ! 

True  Sun  !   upon  our  souls  arise, 

Shining  in  beauty  evermore  ; 
And  through  each  sense  the  quick'ning  beam 

Of  the  eternal  Spirit  pour. 

Thee  too,  O  Father,  we  entreat, 
Father  of  might  and  grace  divine ! 

Father  of  glorious  majefty  ! 

Thy  pitying  eye  on  us  incline. 

Confirm  us  in  each  good  resolve  ; 

The  Tempter's  envious  rage  subdue  ; 
Turn  each  misfortune  to  our  good  ; 

Direct  us  right  in  all  we  do. 


Rule  Thou  our  inmoft  thoughts  ;  let  no 

Impurity  our  hearts  defile  ; 
Grant  us  a  true  and  fervent  faith  ; 

Grant  us  a  spirit  free  from  guile. 

May  Chrift  himself  be  our  true  Food, 
And  Faith  our  daily  cup  supply  ; 


Matins. 


While  from  the  Spirit's  tranquil  depth 
We  drink  unfailing  draughts  of  joy. 

Still  ever  with  the  peep  of  morn 

May  saintly  modefty  attend  ; 
Faith  sanctify  the  midday  hours  ; 

Upon  the  soul  no  night  descend. 

Fail  breaks  the  dawn. — Each  whole  in  Each, 
Come,  Father  bleft  !   Come,  Son  moft  high  ! 

Shine  in  our  souls,  and  be  to  them 
The  dawn  of  immortality. 

Breviary. 


LO,  fainter  now  lie  spread  the  shades  of  night, 
And  upward  moot  the  trembling  gleams  of  morn  ; 
Suppliant  we  bend  before  the  Lord  of  Light, 
And  pray  at  early  dawn, — 

That  his  sweet  charity  may  all  our  fin 
Forgive,  and  make  our  miseries  to  cease  ; 
May  grant  us  health,  grant  us  the  gift  divine 
Of  everlafting  peace. 

Breviary. 


Matins. 
12 


THE   CHRISTIAN   TO   HIS   SOUL    AT   SUNRISE 

SOIL  not  thy  plumage,  gentle  dove, 
With  sublunary  things,— 
Till  in  the   fount  of  light  and  love, 
Thou  (halt  have  bathed  thy  wings. 

Shall  Nature  from  her  couch  arise, 

And  rise  for  thee  in  vain  ? 
While  heaven,  and  earth,  and  seas,  and   fkies, 

Such  types  of  truth  contain. 

See— where  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 

Unfolds  the  gates  of  day  : 
Go —meet  Him  in  his  glorious  dress, 

And  quaff  the  orient  ray ! 

There,  where  ten  thousand  seraphs  ftand, 
To  crown  the  circling  hours, — 

Soar  thousand  from  that  blifsful  land 
Bring  down  unfading  flowers: 

Some  Rose  of  Sharon,  dyed  in  blood, 

Some  spice  of  Gilead's  balm, 
Some  lily  warned  in  Calvary's  flood, 

Some  branch  of  heavenly  palm! 

And  let  the  drops  of  sparkling  dew, 
From   Siloa's  spring  be  fhed, 


Matins.  13 


To  form  a  fragrance  frefh  and  new, 
A   halo  round  thy  head. 

Spread  then  thy  plumes  of  faith  and  prayer, 

Nor  fear  to  wend  away  ; 
And  let  a  glow  of  heavenly  air, 

Gild  every  earthly  day ! 


Brydges. 


Consors  paterr.i  luminis. 

PURE  Light  of  light !   eternal  Day  ! 
Who  doft  the  Father's  brightness  fhare 
Our  chant  the  midnight  silence  breaks  \ — 
Be  nigh,  and  hearken  to  our  prayer. 

Scatter  the  darkness  of  our  minds, 
And  turn  the  hofts  of  hell  to  flight ; 

Let  not  our  souls  in  floth  repose, 
And  fleeping  fink  in  endless  night. 

O  Chrift  !   for  thy  dear  mercy's  sake, 
Spare  us,  who  put  our  truft.  in  Thee  ; 

Nor  let  our  hymns  ascend  in  vain 
To  thy  immortal  Majesty. 

Breviary. 


14  Matins. 


NOW,  while  the  herald  bird  of  day 
Proclaims  the  morning  bright ; 
Chrift  also,  speaking  in  the  soul, 
Wakes  her  to  life  and  light. 

"Take  up  your  beds,"  we  hear  Him  say, 

"  No  more  in  (lumber  lie  ; 
In  juftice,  truth,  and  temperance, 

Keep  watch  ; — Your  Lord  is  nigh." 

O  Chrift  !  and  art  Thou  nigh  indeed  ? — 
Then  let  us  watch  and  weep  ; 

This  truth  but  once  in  earneft  felt 
Forbids  the  heart  to  fleep. 

Break,  Lord,  the  spell  that  wraps  us  round 

In  deadly  bonds  of  night  ; 
Shatter  the  chains  of  former  guilt  j 

Renew  in  us  thy  light. 

Breviary 


Matins.  1 5 


Nox  et  tenebra  et  nub'ila. 

YE  mift  and  darkness,  cloud  and  ftorm, 
Confused  creations  of  the  night  ; 
Light  enters — morning  ftreaks  the  fky — 

Chrift  comes, — 'tis  time  ye  take  your  flight. 

Pierced  by  the  sun's  ethereal  dart, 

Night's  gloomy  mass  is  cleft  in  twain; 

And,  in  the  smiling  face  of  day, 
Nature  resumes  her  tints  again. 

O  God,  we  know  no  sun  but  Thee  ! 

Shine  in  our  souls  divinely  bright ! 
We  seek  Thee  in  simplicity; 

Through  all    our  senses  shed  thy  light. 

A  thousand  objects  all  around 

In  false  delufive  colors  mine  ; 
To  purge  them  clear,  we  ask,  O  Lord, 

But  one  immortal  beam  of  thine. 

Breviary, 


1 6  Matins. 


Lux  ecce  surgit  aurea. 

NOW  with  the  rifing  golden  dawn, 
Let  us,  the  children  of  the  day, 
Cart  off  the  darkness  which  so  long 
Has  led  our  guilty  souls  aftray. 

Oh,  may  the  morn  so  pure,  so  clear, 

Its  own  sweet  calm  in  us  inftil  ; 
A  guileless  mind,  a  heart  fincere, 

Simplicity  of  word  and  will  : 

And  ever,  as  the  day  glides  by, 

May  we  the  busy  senses  rein  ; 
Keep  guard  upon  the  hand  and  eye, 

Nor  let  the  body  suffer  ftain. 

For  all  day  long,  on  Heaven's  high  tower, 
There  ftands  a  Sentinel,  who  spies 

Our  every  action,  hour  by  hour, 
From  early  dawn  till  daylight  dies. 

Breviary. 


f^3 


Matins. 


GRANT  us  a  body  pure  within  ; 
A  wakeful   heart,  a  ready  will; 
Grant  us,  by  no  deep  cherifh'd  fin, 
The  fervor  of  the  soul  to  chill. 

Fill  Thou  our  souls,  Redeemer  true  ! 

With  thy  moft   pure  celeftial  ray; 
So  may  we  walk  in  safety  through 

All  the  temptations  of  this  day. 

Breviary. 


UPON  our  fainting  souls  diftil 
The  grace  of  thy  celeftial  dew  ; 
Let  no  fresh  snare  to  fin  beguile, 
No  former  fin  revive  anew. 

Grant  us  the  grace,  for  love  of  Thee, 

To  scorn  all  vanities  below ; 
Faith  to  detect  each  falfity  ; 

And  knowledge,  Thee  alone  to  know. 

Breviary. 


i8  Mat 


ins. 


THE   ftar  that  heralds  in  the  morn 
Is   fading  in  the  fkies; 
The  darkness  melts  \ — O  Thou  true  Light  ! 
Upon  our  souls  arise. 

Steep  all  our  senses  in  thy  beam  ; 

The  world's   false  night  expel ; 
Purge  each  defilement  from  the  soul, 

And  in  our  bosoms  dwell. 

Come,  early  Faith  !   fix  in  our  hearts 

Thy  root  immovably  ; 
Come,  smiling   Hope  !   and,  laft  not  lead, 

Immortal  Charity  ! 

Breviary. 


Fc'spt 


'9 


VESPERS. 


CHRISTMAS  VESPER  HYMN. 

DEPART  awhile,  each  thought  of  care. 
Be  earthly  things   forgotten  all ; 
And  speak,  my  soul,  thy  vesper  prayer  ; 

Obedient  to  that  sacred  call. 
For  hark !  the  pealing  chorus  swells  ; 

Devotion  chants  the  hymn  of  praise, 
And  now  of  joy  and  hope  it  tells, 
Till  fainting  on  the  ear,  it  says — 
Gloria  tibi  Domine, 
Domine,  Domine. 


Thine,  wondrous  babe  of  Galilee  ! 

Fond  theme  of  David's  harp  and  song, 
Thine  are  the  notes  of  minftrelsy — 

To  thee  its  ransom'd  chords  belong. 
And  hark!  again  the  chorus  swells, 

The  song  is  wafted  on  the  breeze, 
And  to  the  liftening  earth  it  tells — 

In  accents  soft  and  sweet  as  these — 
Gloria  tibi   Domine. 


20 


Vespers. 

My  heart  doth  feel  that  ftiil   He's  near, 
To  meet  the  soul  in  hours  like  this, 
Else— why,  O  why,  that  falling  tear! 

When  all  is  peace  and  love  and  bliss. 
But  hark  !   that  pealing  chorus  swells 

Anew,  its  thrilling  vesper  ftrain, 
And   drill  of  joy  and  hope  it  tells, 
And  bids  creation  fing  again — 
Gloria  tibi  Domine. 


J.    Hughes. 


OME,  O   Creator  Spirit  bleft ! 
And  in  our  souls  take  up  thy  reft  ; 
Come,  with  thy  grace  and  heavenly  aid, 
To  fill  the  hearts  which  Thou  haft  made. 


c 


Kindle  our  senses  from  above, 
And  make  our  hearts  o'erflow  with  love  ; 
With  patience  firm,  and  virtue  high, 
The  weakness  of  our  flefti  supply. 

Far  from  us  drive  the  foe  we  dread, 

And  grant  us  thy  true  peace  inftead  ;       . 

So  (hall  we  not,  with  Thee  for  guide, 

Turn  from  the  path  of  life  afide. 

Breviary. 


Vespers.  2 1 


THE   pall  of  night  o'erihades  the  earth, 
And   hides  the  tints  of  day  \ — 
O   Thou  !  to  whom  no  night  comes  near, 
Dread  Judge !  to  Thee  we  pray  ! 

That  Thou  wilt  all  our  guilt  remove, 

And  our  loft  peace  reftore  ; 
And  of  thy  mercy  grant  that  we 

May  grieve  thy  heart  no  more. 

The  guilty  soul,  which  all  too  long 

In  lethargy  hath  lain, 
Yearns  to  caft  off  her  load,  and  seek 

Her  Saviour's  face  again. 

Expel  from  her  the  darkness,  Lord, 

Of  her  internal  night ; 
Renew  her  bliss, — renew  in  her 

Thy  beatific  light. 

Breviary. 


22 


Vespers. 


ORD  of  eternal  purity  ! 
-*— '    Who  doit,   the  world  with  light  adorn, 
And  paint  the  tracts  of  azure  fky 
With   lovely  hues  of  eve  and   morn  : 


Who  didft  command  the  sun  to  light 
His   fiery  wheel's  effulgent  blaze  ; 

Didft  set  the   moon  her  circuit  bright  ; 
The  ftars  their  ever-winding  maze  : 


That,  each  within  its  order'd  sphere, 
They  might  divide  the  night  from   day  ; 

And  of  the  seasons  through  the  year, 
The  well  remember'd  signs  display  : 

Scatter  our  night,  eternal  God, 

And  kindle  thy  pure  beam  within  ; 

Free  us  from  guilt's  oppreffive    load, 
And  break  the  deadly  bonds  of  fin. 


B 


reviary. 


THEE  iri  the  hymns  of  morn  we  praise  ; 
To  Thee  our  voice  at  eve  we  raise  ; 
Oh,  grant  us,  with  thy  Saints  on  high, 
Thee  through  all  time  to  glorify. 

Breviary 


J 


Aspiration.  23 


ASPIRATION. 


PERFECTION. 


OHOW  the  thought  of  God  attrafts 
And  draws  the  heart  from  earth, 
And  fickens  it  of  paffing  mows 
And   diilipating  mirth  ! 

'Tis  not  enough  to  save  our  souls, 

To  shun  the  eternal  fires  ; 
The  thought  of  God  will  rouse  the  heart 

To  more  sublime  defires. 

God  only  is  the  creature's  home, 
Though  long  and  rough  the  road ; 

Yet  nothing  less  can  satisfy 
The  love  that  longs  for  God. 

O  utter  but  the  Name  of  God 
Down  in  your  heart  of  hearts, 

And  see  how  from  the  world  at  once 
All  tempting  light  departs. 


*4 


Aspiration. 


A  trotting  heart,  a  yearning  eye, 

Can  win  their  way  above  \ 
If  mountains  can  be  moved  by  faith, 

Is  there  less  power  in  love  ? 

How  little  of  that  road,  my  soul  ! 

How  little  haft  thou  gone! 
Take  heart,  and  let  the  thought  of  God 

Allure  thee  further  on. 

The  freedom  from  all  wilful  fin, 
The  Chriftian's  daily  talk,— 

O   these  are  graces  far  below 
What  longing  love  would  afk  ! 

Dole  not  thy  duties  out  to  God, 

But  let  thy  hand  be  free  : 
Look  long  at  Jesus  ;  his  sweet  Blood, 
How  was  it  dealt  to  thee  ? 

The  perfea  way  is  hard  to  flefh  j 

It  is   not  hard  to  love  j 
If  thou  wert  fick  for  want  of  God, 

How  swiftly  wouldft  thou  move  ! 

Good  is  the  cloifter's  filent  (hade, 
Cold  watch  and  pining  faft  ; 

Better  the  miflions  wearing  ftrifc, 
If  there  thy  lot  be   call:. 


Aspiration.  25 


Yet  none  of  these  perfection  needs  : — 

Keep  thy  heart  calm  all  day, 
And  catch  the  words  the  Spirit  there 

From  hour  to  hour  may  say. 

O  keep  thy  conscience  senfitive  ; 

No  inward  token  miss  ; 
And  go  where  grace  entices  thee  ; — 

Perfection  lies  in  this. 

Be  docile  to  thine  unseen  Guide, 

Love  Him  as  He  loves  thee  ; 
Time  and  obedience  are  enough, 

And  thou  a  saint  malt  be  ! 

Faber. 


26 


Aspiration. 


THE    ETERNAL   FATHER. 

OHOW  I  fear  Thee,  living  God  ! 
With  deepeft,  tendered  fears, 
And  worfhip  Thee  with  trembling  hope, 
And  penitential  tears. 

Yet  I  may  love  Thee  too,  O  Lord  ! 

Almighty  as  Thou  art, 
For  Thou  haft  ftooped  to  afk  of  me 

The  love  of  my  poor  heart. 

O  then  this  worse  than  worthless  heart 

In  pity  deign  to  take, 
And  make  it  love  Thee  for  thyself 

And  for  thy  glory's  sake. 

No  earthly  father  loves  like  Thee, 

No  mother  half  so  mild 
Bears  and  forbears,  as  Thou  haft  done, 

With   me  thy  finful  child. 


Only  to  fit  and  think  of  God — 

O   what  a  joy  it  is  ! 
To  think  the  thought,  to  breathe  the  Name- 


Earth   has  no  higher  bliss  ! 


Asp  i ration.  27 


Father  of  Jesus  !  love's  Reward  ! 

What  rapture  will  it  be 
Proftrate  before  thy  throne  to  lie, 

And  gaze  and  gaze  on  Thee  ! 

Faber. 


PECCATOR    AD    CHRISTUM. 

MY  spirit  longeth  for  Thee 
To  dwell  within  my  breaft  ; 
Although   I   am  unworthy 
Of  so  divine  a  Gueft  ! 

Of  so  divine  a  Gueft — 
Unworthy  though  I  be  ; 

Yet  hath  my  heart  no  reft 
Until  it  come  to  Thee  ! 

Until  it  come  to  Thee, — 

In  vain  I  look  around  ; 
In  all  that  I  can  see, 

No  rest  is  to  be  found  ! 

No  reft  is  to  be  found, 
But  in  thy  bleeding  love  : 

Oh!  let  my  wifh  be  crown'd, 
And  send  it  from  above  ! 


rydgei 


28  Aspiration. 


CHRISTUS    AD    PECCATOREM. 

CHEER  up,  desponding  soul, 
Thy  longing  pleased   I  see  : 
'Tis  part  of  that  great  whole, 
Wherewith  I  long'd  for  thee  ! 

Wherewith  I  long'd  for  thee, 
And  left  my  Father's  throne  ; 

From  death  to  set  thee  free, 
And  claim  thee  for  my  own  ! 

To  claim  thee  for  my  own, 

I  suffer'd  on  the  cross  : 
Oh  !   were  my  love  but  known, 

All  else  would  be  as  dross  ! 

All  else  would  be  as  dross  ! 

And  souls,  through  grace  divine, 
Would  count  their  gains  but  loss, 

To  live  forever  mine  ! 

Brydges. 


Self -Consecration.  29 


SELF-CONSECRATION. 


FAITH    OF    OUR   FATHERS. 

FAITH  of  our  Fathers  !   living  ftill 
In  spite  of  dungeon,  fire,  and  sword  : 
Oh  how  our  hearts  beat  high  with  joy 

Whene'er  we  hear  that  glorious  word  : 
Faith  of  our  Fathers  !    Holy  Faith  ! 
We  will  be  true  to  thee  till  death  ! 

Our  Fathers,  chain'd  in  prisons  dark, 
Were  ftill  in  heart  and  conscience  free  : 

How  sweet  would  be  their  children's  fate, 
If  they,  like  them,  could  die  for  thee  ! 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !    Holy  Faith  ! 

We  will  be  true  to  thee  till  death  ! 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !  we  will  love 
Both  friend  and  foe  in  all  our  ftrife  : 

And  preach  thee  too,  as  love  knows  how 
By  kindly  words  and  virtuous  life  : 

Faith  of  our  Fathers  !    Holy  Faith  ! 

We  will  be  true  to  thee  till  death  ! 

Faber. 


3° 


Self-Ccnsecraticn. 


THE    VOW. 

BRIGHT  Angels  who  attend 
Around  our  altar  now, 
Your  wonted  cares  suspend, 

Lift  to  the  holy  Vow, 
Which,  while  the  sacrifice 

Of  Heaven's  eternal  love, 
Pleads  for  us  every  grace, 
Is   heard   in  heaven  above. 

Jesus!  my  happy  heart 

Now  gives  itself  to  Thee, 
O  !   never  hence  depart, 

Reign   here  eternally. 
Thy  sacred  name  alone, 

All  my  delight  shall   prove  -, 
No  joy   my  soul  mail  own, 

But  in  thy  holy  love. 


And,  oh  !  in  after  years, 

When  life  is  fading  faft, 
When  flow  repentant  tears, 

Cancelling  errors  paft, 
Still  fhall  that  holy   vow, 

Be  breathed  to  Heaven, 
And  fervently  as  now, 

My  heart  to  Thee  be  given. 


Self-Consecration.  41 


HYMN    FOR    CONFIRMATION. 

MY   God,  accept  my  heart  this  day, 
And   make  it  always  thine, — 
That  I   from   Thee  no  more  may  ftray, 
No  more  from  Thee  decline. 

Before  the  cross  of  Him  who  died, 

Behold  I  proftrate  fall  : 
Let  every  fin   be  crucified, — 

Let  Chrift  be  all  in  all  ! 

Anoint  me  with  thy  heavenly  grace, 

Adopt  me  for  thine  own, — 
That  I   may  see  thy  glorious   face, 

And  worfhip  at  thy  throne  ! 

May  the  dear  blood,  once  fhed  for  me, 

My  bleft  atonement  prove, — 
That  I   from  firfr  to  laft  may  be 

The  purchase  of  thy  love  ! 

Let  every  thought,  and  work,  and  word, 

To  Thee  be  ever  given,-— 
Then  life  fhall  be  thy  service,  Lord, 

And  death  the  gate  of  heaven. 

Erydges. 


32  Self-Consecration. 


JESUS,  I  MY  CROSS  HAVE  TAKEN. 

Crux  sublata.     Matt.  xvi.  24. 

JESUS, — I   my  cross   have  taken, 
All  to  leave  and  follow  Thee  j 
I  am  poor,  despised,   forsaken, — 

Thou  henceforth  my  all  malt  be  : 
Perish  every  fond  ambition, — 

All  I've  sought,  or  hoped,  or  known  ; 
Yet  how  rich  is  my  condition, — 
God  and  heaven  are  frill  mine  own  ! 

Let  the  world  despise  and  leave  me, 

It  has  left  my  Saviour  too  ; 
Human  hearts  and  looks  deceive  me, 

Thou  art  not  like  them  untrue  : 
Whilft  thy  graces  fhall  adorn  me, 

God  of  wisdom,  love,  and   might, — 
Foes  may  hate,  and  friends  may  scorn  me 

Show  thy  face,  and  all  is  bright. 

Go  then, — earthly  fame  and  treasure, 
Come,   disafter,  scorn,  and   pain  ; 

In  thy  service,  pain   is  pleasure,— 
With  thy  favor,  loss  is  gain. 

I  have  called  Thee,  Abba  Father  ! 
I   have  set  mv  heart  on  Thee  : 


Self-  Con  seer  a  tlon .  ->  -> 


Storms   may  howl,  and  clouds  may  gather, 
All  will  work  for  good  to  me. 

Man   may  trouble  and  diftress   me, 

'Twill  but  drive  me  to  thy  breaft  ; 
Life  with   trials  hard  may  press  me 

Heaven  will  bring  me  sweeter  reft. 
Oh,  'tis  not  in  grief  to   harm  me 

While  thy  love  is  left  to   me  ; — 
Oh,  'twere  not  in  joy  to  charm  me, 

Were  that  joy  unmixed  with  Thee  ! 

Soul, — then  know  thy  full  salvation, 

Rise  o'er  fin,  and  fear,  and  care  j 
Joy  to  find  in  every  ftation, 

Something  ftill  to  do  or  bear. 
Think  what  spirit  dwells  within  thee, 

Think  what  Father's  smiles  are  thine; 
Think  that  Jesus  died  to  win  thee  : 

Child  of  heaven,  cans't  thou  repine  ? 

Hafte  thee  on  from  grace  to  glorv, 

Armed  by  faith,  and  winged   by  prayer- 
Heaven's  eternal  days  before  thee, 

God's  own  hand  fhall  guide  thee  there. 
Soon  fhall  close  thine  earthly  miffion, 

Patience  fhall  thy  spirit  raise; 
Hope  fhall  change  to  glad   fruition, 

Faith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise  ! 


34 


Self-Consecrati 


CONVERSION. 

O   FAITH  !   thou  worked  miracles 
Upon  the  hearts  of  men, 
Choofing  thy  home  in  those  same  hearts, 
We  know  not  how  or  when. 

To  one   thy  grave  unearthly  truths 

A   heavenly  vifion  seem  ; 
While  to  another's  eye  they  are 

A  superfluous  dream. 


To  one  the  deepen1:  doctrines  look 

So  naturally  true, 
That  when  he  learns  the  lefTon  firft 

He  hardly  thinks  it  new. 

To  other  hearts  the  selfsame  truths 
No  light  or  heat  can  bring ; 

They  are  but  puzzling  phrases  ftrung 
Like  beads  upon  a  firing. 

O  Gift  of  Gifts  !   O  Grace  of  Faith  ! 

My  God  !   how  can  it  be 
That  Thou,  who  haft  discerning  love, 

Should'ft  give  that  gift  to  me  ? 


Self ^'Consecration, 


35 


There  was  a  place,  there  was  a  time, 

Whether  by  night  or  day, 
Thy  Spirit  came  and  left  that  gift, 

And  went  upon  his  way. 

How  many  hearts  Thou  might'ft  have  had 

More  innocent  than  mine  ! 
How  many  souls  more  worthy  far 

Of  that  sweet  touch  of  thine  ! 

Ah  Grace  !  into  unlikelieft  hearts 

It  is  thy  boaft  to  come, 
The  glory  of  thy  light  to  find 

In  darken1  spots  a  home. 

How  will  they  die,  how  will  they  die, 

How  bear  the  cross  of  grief, 
Who  have  not  got  the  light  of  faith, 

The  courage  of  belief? 

The  crowd  of  cares,  the  weightieft  cross 

Seem  trifles  less  than  light, — 
Earth  looks  so  little  and  so  low 

When  faith  fhines  full  and  bright. 

O   happy,  happy  that  I  am  ! 

If  thou  canft  be,   O  Faith  ! 
The  treasure  that  thou  art  in  life, 

What  wilt  thou  be  in  death  ? 


~r ' 

36  Self-Consecration. 


Thy  choice,  O  God  of  Goodness  !  then 

I   lovingly  adore  ; 
O  give  me  grace  to  keep  thy  grace, 

And  grace  to  merit  more  ! 

Fa  her. 


PRAYER   OF   THE   CONTRITE   SINNER. 

HAVE  mercy  Thou,  mod  gracious  God  ! 
And   my  remittance   fign  ; 
The  more  thy  mercy  mall  accord, 
The  greater  glory  thine. 

Thou  surely  haft  not  said  in  vain  : 

"  More  joy  in  heaven  is  made, 
For  the  loft  fheep  that's  found  again, 

Than  those  which  never  stray'd." 

Help'd  by  thy  grace,  no  more  I'll  stray, 

No  more   refift  thy  voice  ; 
Where  Thou,  good  Shepherd,  lead'ft  the  way, 

That  way  fhall  be  my  choice. 

Too  long,  alas  !   my  wand'ring  feet 

The   crooked  paths  have  trod  ; 
Henceforth  I'll  follow,  as  is  meet, 

The  sure  unerring  road. 


Self-  Consecration .  3  7 

If  casual  falls  retard  my  pace, 

With  speed  again  I'll  rise  ; 
With  speed  I'll  reassume  my  race, 

And  run  and  gain  the  prize. 

All  praise,  O  Lord,  to  Thee  alone, 

Below,  as  'tis  above  : 
And  may  thy  joys,  Eternal  One, 

Both  draw  and  crown  my  love. 


HYMN    OF    ST.    FRANCIS   XAVIER. 

O  Deus,  ego  amo  Te. 

1\  /TY  God,  I  love  Thee,  not  because 
-*•*-!«    I   hope  for  Heaven  thereby; 
Nor  because  they  who  love  Thee  not, 
Must  burn  eternally. 

Thou,   O   my  Jesus,  Thou  didft  me 

Upon  the  Cross  embrace  ; 
For  me  didft  bear  the  nails  and  spear, 

And  manifold  disgrace  ; 

And  griefs  and  torments  numberless  ; 

And  sweat  of  agony  ; 
E'en  death  itself — and  all  for  one 

Who  was  thine  enemy. 


~g  Self-Consecration. 


Then  why,  O  bleffed  Jesu  Chrift  ! 

Should  I   not  love  Thee  well; 
Not  for  the  sake  of  winning  Heaven, 

Or  of  escaping  Hell  : 

Not  with  the  hope  of  gaining  aught  ; 

Not  seeking  a  reward  ; 
But,  as  Thyself  haft  loved  me, 

O  ever-loving  Lord  ? 

E'en  so  I  love  Thee,  and  will  love, 

And  in  thy  praise  will  fing  ; 
Solely  because  Thou  art  my  God, 

And  my  eternal  King. 

Missal. 


Trust.  39 


TRUST. 


THE   RIGHT   MUST   WIN. 

OIT  is  hard  to  work  for  God, 
To  rise  and  take  his  part 
Upon  this  battle-field  of  earth, 
Ana  not  sometimes  lose  heart! 

He  hides  Himself  so  wondroufly, 
As  though  there  were  no  God  ; 

He  is  leaft  seen  when  all  the  powers 
Of  ill  are  moft  abroad  : 

Or  He  deserts  us  at  the  hour 

The  fight  is  all  but  loft  ; 
And  seems  to  leave  us  to  ourselves 

Juft  when  we  need  Him   moft. 

O  there  is  less  to  try  our  faith, 

In  our  myfterious  creed, 
Than  in  the  godless  look  of  earth 

In  these  our  hours  of  need. 


4C  Trust. 

Ill   mailers  good  ;   good  seems  to  change- 
To  ill  with  greateft  ease  ; 

And,   worft  of  all,  the  good   with  good 
Is  at  cross  purposes. 

The   Church,   the   Sacraments,  the  Faith, 

Their  uphill  journey  take, 
Lose  here  what  there   they  gain,  and,  if 

We  lean  upon  them,  break. 

It  is  not  so,  but  so  it  looks  ; 

And  we  lose  courage  then  ; 
And  doubts  will  come  if  God  hath   kept 

His  promises  to  men. 

Ah  !   God  is  other  than  we  think  ; 

His  ways  are  far  above, 
Far  beyond  reason's  height,  and  reach'd 

Only  by   childlike  love. 

The  look,  the   fafhion  of  God's  ways 

Love's  lifelong  ftudy  are  ; 
She  can  be  bold,  and  guess,  and  aft, 

When  reason  would  not  dare. 

She   has  a  prudence  of  hex  own  ; 

Her  ftep  is   firm  and  free  ; 
Yet  there  is  cautious  science  too 

In  her  simplicity. 


Trust.  41 

Workman  of  God  !   O   lose  not  heart, 

But  learn  what  God  is  like  ; 
And  in  the  darkeft  battle-field 

Thou  (halt  know  where  to  ftrike. 

O  bless'd  is  he  to  whom  is  given 

The  inftinct  that  can  tell 
That  God  is  on  the  field,  when   He 

Is  molt  invisible  ! 

And  bless'd  is  he  who  can  divine 

Where  real  right  doth  lie, 
And  dares  to  take  the  side  that  seems 

Wrong  to  man's  blindfold  eve  ! 

O  learn  to  scorn  the   praise  of  men  ! 

O   learn  to  lose  with  God  ! 
For  Jesus  won  the  world  through   fhame, 

And  beckons  thee  his  road. 


God's  glory  is  a  wondrous  thing, 
Aloft  ftrange  in  all  its  ways, 

And,  of  all  things  on  earth,  leaft  like 
What  men  agree  to  praise. 

As  He  can  endless  glory  weave 
From  time's  misjudging  shame, 

In  his  own  world  He  is  content 
To  play  a  lofing  game. 


42 


Trust. 

Muse  on  his  juftice,  downcaft   Soul! 

Muse  and   take  better  heart  ; 
Back  with  thine  angel  to  the   field, 

Good  luck  (hall  crown  thy   part! 

God's  juftice  is  a  bed  where  we 

Our  anxious  hearts  may  lay, 
And,  weary  with  ourselves,  may  sleep 

Our  discontent  away. 

For  right  is  right,  since  God  is  God  ; 

And  right  the  day   muft  win  ; 
To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty, 

To  falter  would  be  sin! 

Faber. 


Trust.  43 


SURSUM    CORDA. 

LIFT  up  your  hearts!"    Yes,   I  will  lift 
My  heart  and  soul,  dear  Lord,  to  Thee 
Who  every  good  and  perfect  gift 
Vouchsaf'ft  so  lavifhly  and  free. 

All  that  is  ben1,  from  Thee  comes  down 
On  us,  with  rich  and  ample  ftore, 

Thy  bounteous  hands  our  wifhes  crown 
With  good,  increasing  more  and  more. 

'Twas  Thou  that  gave  us  life  and  breath, 
It  is  thy  hand  that  holds  us  frill, 

That  keeps  us  from  the  fleep  of  death, 
And  fhelters  us  from  every  ill. 

Yea,  more  than  corporal  life, — thy  love 
Has  promise  given  of  life  to  come  ; 

And  taught  us,  by  the   faith,   above 
All  ills  to  soar,  and  burft  the  tomb. 

Then,  while  I  live,  with  ardent  eye, 
Let  me  look  up  to  Thee,  and   learn, 

From  blefiings  here^  to  look  on  high, 
And  purer  blemngs  there  discern  ! 


44 


Trust. 


All  Thou  haft  given   is  thine,   then   take 
Me,  thine  own  gift,   for  all  thine  own, 

And  teach   me  every  day  to  make 
New  vows  of  love  to  Thee  alone! 


GOD    AND    HEAVEN. 

THE  silver  chord  in  twain  is  snapp'd 
The  golden  bowl  is  broken, 
The   mortal  mould   in  darkness  wrapp'd, 

The  words   funereal  spoken  ; 
The  tomb  is  built,  or  the  rock  is  cleft, 

Or  delved  is  the  grafTy  clod, 
And  what  for  mourning  man  is  left  ? 
O   what  is  left — but  God  ! 

The  tears  are   fhed  that  mourn'd  the  dead, 

The  flowers  they  wore  are   faded  ; 
The  twilight  dun  hath  veil'd  the  sun, 

And   hope's  sweet  dreamings  fhaded  : 
And  the  thoughts  of  joy  that  were  planted  deep, 

From  our  heart  of  hearts  are   riven  ; 
And  what  is  left  us  when  we  weep  ? 

O  what  is  left — but  Heaven  ! 


Trust.  45 


THE   WILL   OF   GOD. 

11  Thy  iv ill  be  done." 

I   WORSHIP  thee,  sweet  Will  of  God! 
And  all  thy  ways  adore, 
And  every  day  I  live  I  seem 
To  Jove  thee  more  and  more. 

Thou  wert  the  end,  the  blefTed  rule 

Of  Jesu's  toils  and  tears  ; 
Thou  wert  the  paflion  of  his   Heart 

Those  Three-and-Thirty  years. 

And  He  hath  breathed  into  my  soul 

A  special  love  of  thee, 
A  love  to  lose  my  will  in  his 

And  by  that  loss  be  free. 

I  love  to  see  thee  bring  to  naught 

The  plans  of  wily  men  ; 
When  fimple  Hearts  outwit  the  wise, 

O  thou  art  loveliest  then ! 

The  headftrong  world,  it  preffes  hard 

Upon  the  Church  full  oft, 
And  then  how  eafily  thou  turn'ft 

The  hard  ways  into  soft. 


46 


Trust. 

I  love  to  kiss  each   print  where  thou 

Haft  set  thine  unseen  feet  : 
I   cannot  fear  thee,  bleiTed  Will! 

Thine  empire  is  so  sweet. 

When  obftacles  and  trials  seem 

Like  prison-walls  to  be, 
I  do  the  little  1  can  do, 

And  leave  the  reft  to  thee. 

I  have  no  cares,  O  bleiTed  Will! 

For  all  my  cares  are  thine  ; 
I  live  in  triumph,  Lord!  for  Thou 

Haft  made  thy  triumphs  mine. 

And  when  it  seems  no  chance  or  change 

From  grief  can  set  me  free, 
Hope  finds  its  ftrength  in  helplelTness, 

And  gaily  waits  on  thee. 

Man's  weakness  waiting  upon  God 

Its  end  can  never  miss, 
For  men  on  earth  no  work  can  do 

More  angel-like  than  this. 

Ride  on,  ride  on  triumphantly, 
Thou  glorious  Will!  ride  on; 

Faith's  pilgrim  sons  behind  thee  take 
The  road  that  thou  haft  gone. 


Trust,  47 

He  always  wins   who  sides  with  God, 

To  him  no  chance  is  loft  ; 
God's  will  is  sweetest  to  him  when 

It  triumphs  at  his  coft. 

Ill  that  He  blefles  is  our  good, 

And  unbleft  good  is   ill  ; 
And  all  is  right  that  seems  moft  wrong, 

If  it  be  His  sweet  Will  ! 

Faber. 


Dies  ira,  dies  ilia. 
[Crashaw's  Translation.] 

HEAR'ST  thou,  my  soul,  what  serious  things 
Both  the  Psalm  and  Sibyl  fings, 
Of  a  sure  Judge,  from  whose  fharp  ray 
The  world  in  flames  fhall  pass  away  ? 

O  that  fire  !  before  whose  face, 
Heaven  and  Earth  fhall  find  no  place  ; 
O  these  eyes!  whose  angry  light 
Muft  be  the  day  of  that  dread  night. 

O  that  trump  !  whose  blaft  fhall  run 
An  even  round  with  th'  circling  sun, 
And   urge  the  murmuring  graves  to  bring 
Pale  mankind  forth  to  meet  his  King. 


48 


Trust. 


Horror  of  nature,   hell   and   death  ! 
When   a  deep  groan  as   from  beneath 
Shall  cry,  "  We  come !  we  come  !  "  and  all 
The  caves   of  night  answer  one  call. 

O   that  book!  whose  leaves  so  bright, 
Will  set  the  world  in  severe  light  : 
O   that  Judge  !   whose  hand,  whose  eye, 
None  can  endure — yet  none  can  fly. 

Ah  !   thou   poor  soul,  what  wilt  thou  say? 
And  to  what  patron  choose  to  pray  ? 
When  ftars  themselves  mall  ftagger,  and 
The  moft  firm  foot  no  more  than  ftand. 

But  thou  giveft  leave,  dread  Lord,  that  we 
Take  fhelter  from  Thyself  in  Thee  ; 
And,  with  the  wings  of  thine  own  dove, 
Fly  to  the  sceptre  of  soft  love. 


«lt 


Trust.  49 


MY   GOD    AND    MY   ALL. 


Deus  metis  ct  omnia. 


WHILE  Thou,  O  my  God,  art  my  help  and  defender, 
No  cares  can  o'erwhelm   me,  no  terrors  appall ; 
The  wiles  and   the  snares  of  this  world  will  but  render 
More  lively  my  hope  in   my  God  and   my  all. 

Yes  ;   Thou  art  my  refuge  in  sorrow  and  danger ; 

My  ftrength  when  I   suffer  ;   my  hope  when  I   fall  ; 
My  comfort  and  joy  in  this  land  of  the  ftranger ; 

My  treasure,  my  glory,  my  God,  and  my  all. 

To  Thee,  deareft  Lord,  will  I  turn  without  ceaiing, 
Though  grief  may  oppress  me,  or  sorrow  befall ; 

And  love  Thee,  till  death,  my  bleft  spirit  releafing, 
Secures  to  me  Jesus,  my  God  and  my  all. 

And  when  Thou  demandeft  the  life  Thou  haft  given, 
With  joy  will  I  answer  thy  merciful  call  ; 

And  quit  Thee  on  earth,  but  to  find  Thee  in  heaven, 
My  portion  forever,  my  God  and  my  all. 

W.   Young. 


50 


Prayi 


PRAYER. 


Tclluris  alme  conditor. 

O   BOUNTEOUS  Framer  of  the  globe  ! 
Who  with  thy  mighty  hand 
Didft   gather  up  the  rolling  seas, 
And  firmly  base  the  land  : 

That  so  the  frefhly  teeming  earth 

Might  herb  and  seedling  bear, 
Standing  in  early  beauty  gay, 

With  flowers  and  fruitage  fair  : 

On  our  parch'd  souls  pour  Thou,  O   Lord, 

The  frefhness  of  thy  grace  ; 
So  penitence  fhall  spring  anew, 

And  all  the  pad:  efface. 

Grant  us  to  fear  thy  holy  law, 

To  feel  thy  goodness   nigh  ; 

Grant   us  through  life  thy  peace;   in  death 

Thine  immortality. 

Breviary. 


Prayer.  5 1 


WHIT-SUNDAY. 

Veni  Sancte  Spiritus. 

HOLY   Spirit  !   Lord  of  light ! 
From  thy  clear  celeftial  height, 
Thy  pure  beaming  radiance  give  : 

Come,  Thou  Father  of  the  poor  ! 
Come,  with  treasures  which  endure  ! 
Come,  Thou  Light  of  all  that  live  ; 

Thou,  of  all  consolers  bed, 
Vifiting  the  troubled  breaft, 
Doft  refrefhing  peace  beftow  ; 

Thou  in  toil  art  comfort  sweet ; 
Pleasant  coolness  in  the  heat ; 
Solace  in  the  midft  of  woe. 

Light  immortal !  light  divine  ! 
Vifit  Thou  these  hearts  of  thine, 
And  our  inmoft  being  fill  : 

If  Thou  take  thy  grace  away, 
Nothing  pure  in   man  will  fray  ; 
All  his  good  is  turned  to  ill. 


52  Prayer. 

Heal  our  wounds, — our  fhength  renew  j 
On  our  dryness  pour  thy  dew  ; 
Warn  the  ftains  of  guilt  away  : 

Bend  the  ftubborn  heart  and  will  \ 
Melt  the  frozen,  warm  the  chill  ; 
Guide  the  fteps  that  go  aftray. 

Thou,  on  those  who  evermore 
Thee  confess  and  Thee  adore, 
In  thy  sevenfold  gifts,  descend  : 

Give  them  comfort  when  they  die  ; 

Give  them  life  with   Thee  on  hi^h  ; 

Give  them  joys  which  never  end. 


Vem  Creator. 


Missal. 


CREATOR  Spirit,  by  whose  aid 
The  world's  foundations  firft  were  laid. 
Come  vifit  every  pious   mind  ; 
Come  pour  thy  joys  on  human  kind  ; 
From  fin  and  sorrow  set  us  free 
And  make  thy  temples  worthy  Thee. 

O  source  of  uncreated  li^ht 

o 

The  Father's  promised   Paraclete  ! 


Prayer.  53 

Thrice  holy  fount,  thrice   holy  fire, 
Our  hearts  with  heavenly  love  inspire  : 
Come,  and  thy  sacred  unction  bring, 
To  sanctify  us  while  we   fing. 

Plenteous  of  grace,  descend  from  high, 

Rich  in  thy  sevenfold  energy  ! 

Thou  ftrength  of  his  Almighty  hand, 

Whose  power  does   heaven  and  earth  command, 

Proceeding  Spirit,  our  defence, 

Who  doft  the  gift  of  tongues  dispense, 

And  crown  thy  gift  with  eloquence  ! 

Refine  and  purge  our  earthly  parts  : 
But  oh  !   inflame  and  fire  our  hearts  : 
Our  frailties  help,  our  vice  control — 
Submit  the  senses  to  the  soul  : 
And  when  rebellious  they  are  grown, 
Then  lay  thy  hand,  and  hold  them  down. 

Chase  from  our  minds  th'  infernal  foe, 
And  peace,  the  fruit  of  love,  beftow  ; 
And  left  our  feet  mould  ftep  aftray, 
Protect  and  guide  us  in  the  way. 

Make  us  eternal  truth  receive, 
And  practise  all  that  we  believe  : 
Give  us  Thyself,  that  we  may  see 
The  Father,  and  the  Son,  bv  Thee. 

Tr •  anjiated  by   Dry  den. 


54 


Prayer. 


LENT. 

Audi  benigne  Conditor. 

THOU  loving  Maker  of  mankind, 
Before  thy  throne  we  pray  and  weep  j 
Oh,  ftrengthen  us  with  grace  divine, 
Duly  this  sacred  Lent  to  keep. 

Searcher  of  hearts  !  Thou  doft  our  ills 
Discern,  and  all  our  weakness   know: 

Again  to  Thee  with   tears  we  turn; 
Again  to  us  thy  mercy  mow. 

Much  have  we  finn'd  j  but  we  confess 
Our  guilt,  and  all  our  faults  deplore  : 

Oh,  for  the  praise  of  thy  great  Name, 
Our  fainting  souls  to  health  reftore  ! 

And  grant  us,  while  by  fafts  we  drive 

This  mortal  body  to  control, 
To  faft   from   all  the   food  of  fin, 

And  so  to  purify  the  soul. 

Hear  us,  O  Trinity  thrice  bleft  ! 
Sole  Unity!   to  Thee  we  cry: 
Vouchsafe  us   from  these   fafts  below 


To  reap  immortal  fruit  on  high. 


Breviary. 


Vjft 


55 


Magna  Deus  potentia. 

LORD  of  all  power!  at  whose  command, 
The  waters,   from  their  teeming  womb, 
Brought  forth  the  countless   tribes  of  fifh, 
And  birds  of  every  note  and  plume  : 

Who  didft,  for  natures  link'd  in  birth, 
Far  different  homes  of  old  prepare  ; 

Sinking  the  fifties  in   the  sea  ; 
Lifting  the  birds  aloft  in  air. 

Lo  !   born  of  thy  baptismal  wave, 
We  ask  of  Thee,  O  Lord  divine ! 

"Keep  us,  whom  Thou  haft  sanctified 
In  thy  own   Blood,   forever  thine. 


"  Safe  from  all  pride,  as  from  despair  ; 

Not  sunk  too  low,  nor  raised  too  high 
Left  raised  by  pride,  we  headlong  fall  ; 

Sunk  in  despair,  lie  down  and  die." 


B> 


wry. 


56  Encouragement, 


ENCOURAGEMENT. 


JESUS. 


THE  light  of  love  is  round  his  feet, 
His  paths  are  never  dim  ; 
And   He  comes  nigh  to  us  when  we 
Dare  not  come  nigh  to   Him. 

Let  us  be  simple  with   Him  then, 
Not  backward,   ftiff,  or  cold, 

As  though  our  Bethlehem   could  be 
What  Sinai  was  of  old. 

His  love  of  us  may  teach   us  how 

To  love   Him   in   return  ; 
Love  cannot  help  but  grow  more   free 

The  more  its  transports  burn. 

The  solemn  face,  the  downcaft  eye, 
The  words  conftrain'd  and  cold, — 

These  are  the  homage,  poor  at  beft, 
Of  those  outfide  the   fold. 


Encouragement,  57 


O   that  they  knew  what  Jesus  was, 

And  what  untold  abyss 
Lies  in  love's  fimple  forwardness 

Of  more  than  earthly  bliss  ! 

O   that  they  knew  what  faith   can  work  ! 

What  Sacraments  can  do  ! 
What  fimple  love  is  like,  on   fire 

In  hearts  absolved  and  true  ! 

How  can  they  tell  but  Jesus  oft 

His  secret  thirft  will   flake, 
On  those  ftrange   freedoms  childlike  hearts 

Are  taught  by  God  to  take  ? 

Poor  souls!  they  know  not  how  to  love; 

They  feel  not  Jesus  near  ; 
And  they  who  know  not  how  to  love 

Still  less  know  how  to  fear. 

The  humbling  of  the  Incarnate  Word 
They  have  not  faith  to  face  ; 

And  how   shall  they  who  have  not  faith 
Attain  love's  better  grace? 

The  awe  that  lies  too  deep  for  words, 
Too  deep  for  solemn  looks, — 

It  finds  no  way  into  the  face, 
No  spoken  vent  in  books. 


5* 


Encouragement. 


They  would   not  speak  in   measured   tones, 

If  love   had  in  them  wrought 
Until  their  spirits  had  been  hufh'd 

In  reverential   thought. 

They  would  have  smiled   in   playful  ways 

To  ease  their  fervid  heart, 
And  learn'd  with  other  fimple  souls 

To  play  love's  crafty  part. 

They  would  have  run  away  from  God 

For  their  own  vileness'   sake, 
And  fear'd  left  some  interior  light 

From  tell-tale  eyes  mould  break. 

They  know  not  how  the  outward  smile 

The  inward  awe  can  prove  ; 
They  fathom  not  the  creature's   fear 

Of  Uncreated   Love. 


The  majefty  of  God  ne'er  broke 

On  them  like  fire  at  night, 
Flooding  their  ftricken  souls,  while  they 

Lay  trembling  in  the  light. 

They  love  not ;  for  they  have  not  kiss'd 

The  Saviour's  outer  hem  : 
They   fear  not  ;   for  the  Living  God 

Is  yet  unknown   to  them  ! 

faber. 


Encouragement.  59 


SOLDIERS  of  Chrift!  arise! 
And  put  your  armor  on, 
Strong  in  the  ftrength   which  God  supplies 

Through   his  eternal  Son  ; 
Strong  is  the  Lord  of  hofts, 
And  in  his  mighty  power, 
Who  in  the  ftrength  of  Jesus  trufts, 
Is  more  than  conqueror. 

Soldiers  of  Chrift  !   arise  ! 

The  God  of  armies  calls 
Unto  his  manfions  in  the  fkies — 

His  everlafting  halls  : 
Behold  !  the  angel  hoft  appears 

To  welcome  you  to  bliss  ; 
Oh  !  what  is  earth,  its  fighs,  and  tears, 

Its  joys  compared  to  this  ! 

Crufh'd  is  the  haughty  foe, 

His  might,  his  glory  gone, 
But  ye  with  victory  crown'd,  mall  go 

To  Chrift's  eternal  throne. 
There  fhall  the  conqueror  reft, 

And  in  that  bleft  abode, 
Forever  reign  amid  the  bleft, 

Triumphant  with  his  God. 


6o  Encouragement. 


MARY   MAGDALEN. 

TO  the  hall  of    the   feaft  came  the  finful  and  fair  ; 
She  heard  in  the  city  that  Jesus  was  there  ; 
She   mark'd  not  the  splendor  that  blazed  on  their  board  ; 
But  filently  knelt  at  the  feet  of  her  Lord. 

The  hair  from  her  forehead,  so  sad  and  so  meek, 
Hung  dark  o'er  the  blushes  that  bum'd  on  her  cheek  ; 
And  so  ftill  and  so  lowly  fhe  bent  in  her  fhame, 
It  seem'd  as  her  spirit  had  flown  from  its  frame. 

The  frown  and  the  murmur  went  round  through  them  all, 
That  one  so   unhallow'd   mould  tread  in  that  hall ; 
And  some  said  the  poor  would  be  objects  more  meet 
For  the  wealth  of  the  perfumes  fhe  fhower'd  at  his  feet. 

She  mark'd  but  her  Saviour,  fhe  spoke  but  in  fighs, 
She  dared  not  look  up  to  the  heaven  of  his  eyes  ; 
And  the  hot  tears  gufh'd  forth  at  each  heave  of  her  breaft, 
As  her  lips  to  his  sandals  fhe  throbbingly  prefFd. 

On  the  cloud,  after  tempefts,  as  fhineth  the  bow, 
In  the  glance  of  the  sun-beam,  as   melteth   the  snow, 
He  look'd  on  that  loft  one — her  fins  were  forgiven  \ 
And  Mary  went  forth  in   the  beauty  of  heaven. 

Callanan. 


Self-  Ex  amino  tion .  6 1 


SELF-EXAMINATION. 


THE   GIFTS   OF   GOD. 

MY  soul  J  what  haft  thou  done  for  God  ? 
Look  o'er  thy  'miflpent  years  and  see  ; 
Sum   up  what  thou  haft  done  for  God, 
And  then  what  God  hath  done  for  thee. 

He  made  thee  when   He  might  have  made 
A  soul  that  would  have  loved  Him  more  ; 

He  rescued  thee  from  nothingness, 
And  set  thee  on  life's  happy  more. 

He  placed  an  angel  at  thy  fide, 

And  ftrewed  joys  round  thee  on  thy  way  ; 
He  gave  thee  rights  thou  couldft  not  claim, 

And  life,  free  life,  before  thee  lay. 

Had   God   in  heaven  no  work  to  do 

But  miracles  of  love  for  thee  ? 
No  world  to  rule,  no  joy  in  Self 

And  in  his  own  infinity  ? 


52.  Self- Examination. 


So  muft  it  seem  to  our  blind  eyes  : 
He  gave  his  love  no  Sabbath  reft, 

Still  plotting  happiness  for  men, 

And  new  defigns  to  make  them  bleft. 

From  out  his  glorious  Bosom  came 

His  only,  his  Eternal  Son  ; 
He  freed  the  race  of  Satan's  slaves, 

And  with  his  Blood  fin's  captives  won. 

The  world  rose  up  againft  his  love  ; 

New  love  the  vile  rebellion  met, 
As  though  God  only  look'd  at  fin 

Its  guilt  to  pardon  and  forget. 

For  his  Eternal  Spirit  came 

To  raise  the  thankless  naves  to  sons, 
And  with  the  sevenfold  gifts  of  love 

To  crown  his  own  elected  ones. 

Men  spurned  his  grace  ;   their  lips  blasphemed 
The  love  that  made  itself  their  Have  : 

They  grieved  that  bleffed  Comforter, 

And  turned  againft  Him  what  He  gave. 

Yet  ftill  the  sun  is  fair  by  day, 
The   moon  ftill  beautiful  by  night; 

The  world  goes  round,  and  joy  with   it, 
And  life,  free  life,  is  man's  delight. 


Self-  Examination .  6  3 


No  voice  God's  wondrous  filence  breaks, 
No  hand  put  forth   his  anger  tells  ; 

But   He,  the  Omnipotent  and  Dread, 
On   high  in  humbleft  patience  dwells. 

The  Son  hath  come  ;  and  maddened  fin 
The  world's  Redeemer  crucified  ; 

The  Spirit  comes,  and  flays,  while  men 
His  presence  doubt,  his  gifts  deride. 

And  now  the  Father  keeps  Himself 

In  patient  and  forbearing  love, 
To  be  his  creature's  heritage 

In  that  undying  life  above. 

O  wonderful,  O   pafling  thought, 

The  love  that  God  hath  had  for  thee  ! 

Spending  on  thee  no  less  a  sum 
Than  the  Undivided  Trinity  ! 

Father,  and  Son,  and  Holy  Ghoft, 
Exhaufted  for  a  thing  like  this, — 

The  world's  whole  government  disposed 
For  one  ungrateful  creature's  bliss  ! 

What  haft  thou  done  for  God,  my  soul  r 
Look  o'er  thy  mifTpent  years  and  see  ; 

Cry  from  thy  worse  than  nothingness, 
Cry  for  his  mercy  upon  thee! 

Faber. 


64  Self-E 


xamination. 


SWEETNESS    IN    PRAYER. 

WHY  doft  thou  beat  so  quick,  my  heart? 
Why  ftruggle  in  thy  cage? 
What  mail  I  do  for  thee,  poor  heart! 
Thy  throbbing  heat  to  suage  ? 

What  spell  is  this  come  over  thee  ? 

My  soul  !   what  sweet  surprise  ? 
And  wherefore  these  unbidden  tears 

That  ftart  into  mine  eyes  ? 

How  are  my  paffions  laid  to  fleep, 

How  easy  penance  seems  ! 
And  how  the  bright  world  fades  away — 

0  are  they  all  but  dreams  ? 

How  great,  how  good  does  God  appear, 

How  dear  our  holy  faith  ! 
How  tafteless  life's  beft  joys  have  grown ! 

How  I  could  welcome  death  ! 

Thy  sweetness  hath  betrayed  Thee,  Lord! 

Dear  Spirit !  it  is  Thou  ; 
Deeper  and  deeper  in  my  heart 

1  feel  Thee  nettling  now. 


Self-  Exam  {nation . 


65 


Whence  Thou  hail  come  I  need  not  afk ; 

But,   O   moft  gentle  Dove  ! 
O   wherefore  haft  Thou  lit  on  one 

That  so  repays  thy  love  ? 

Ah  !  that  Thou  mighteft  ftay  with  me, 

Or  else  that  I   might  die 
While  heart  and  soul  are  ftill  subdued 

With  thy  sweet  maftery. 

Thy  home  is  with  the  humble,  Lord! 

The  fimple  are  thy  reft  ; 
Thy  lodging  is  in  childlike  hearts  ; 

Thou  makeft  there  thy  neft. 

Dear  Comforter !  Eternal  Love  ! 

If  Thou  wilt  ftay  with  me, 
Of  lowly  thoughts  and  fimple  ways 

I'll  build  a  neft  for  Thee. 


My  heart,  sweet  Dove!  I'll  lend  to  Thee 

To  mourn  with  at  thy  will  ; 
My  tongue  {hall  be  thy  lute  to  try 

On  Tinners'  souls  thy  fkill. 

Who  made  this  beating  heart  of  mine, 
But  Thou  my  heavenly  Gueft  ? 

Let  no  one  have  it  then  but  Thee, 
And  let  it  be  thy  neft. 


Faber. 


66 


Self-  Examination . 


DRYNESS    IN    PRAYER. 

OFOR   the  happy  days  gone  by, 
When  love  ran  smooth  and  free, 
Days  when  my  Spirit  so  enjoy'd 
More  than  earth's  liberty! 

O   for  the  times  when  on  my  heart 
Long  prayer  had  never  pall'd, 

Times  when  the  ready  thought  of  God 
Would  come  when  it  was  call'd ! 


Then  when  I  knelt  to  meditate, 
Sweet  thoughts  came  o'er  my  soul, 

Countless  and  bright  and  beautiful, 
Bevond  my  own  control. 

O  who  hath  lock'd  those  fountains  up  ? 

Those  vifions  who  hath  ftay'd  ? 
What  sudden  act  hath  thus  transform'd 

My  sunfhine  into  fhade  ? 

This  freezing  heart,  O   Lord!  this  will 

Dry  as  the  desert  sand, 
Good  thoughts  that  will  not  come,  bad  thoughts 

That  come  without  command, — 


Self- Ex  (un  in  at  ion.  6  J 


A   faith  that  seems  not  faith,  a  hope 
That  cares  not  for  its  aim, 


A  love  that  none  the  hotter  grows 
At  Jesu's  blefled  name, — 


The  weariness  of  prayer,  the   mift 

O'er  conscience  overspread, 
The  chill  repugnance  to   frequent 

The  Feaft  of  Angels'  Bread  : — 

If  this  drear  change  be  thine,  O  Lord ! 

If  it  be  thy  sweet  will, 
Spare  not,  but  to  the  very  brim 

The  bitter  chalice  fill. 

But  if  it  hath  been  fin  of  mine, 

O  mow  that  fin  to  me, 
Not  to  get  back  the  sweetness  loft, 

But  to  make  peace  with  Thee. 

One  thing  alone,  dear  Lord !  I  dread  ;— 

To  have  a  secret  spot 
That  separates  my  soul  from  Thee, 

And  yet  to  know  it  not. 


0 

I 

when 
So  ful 
know, 
I  did 

the  tide  of  graces  set 
upon  my  heart, 
dear  Lord  !   how  faithlessly 
my  little  part. 

68  Self-Examinat'u 


I   know  how  well   my  heart  hath  earn'd 

A  chaftisement  like  this, 
In  trifling  many  a  grace  away 

In  self-complacent  bliss. 

But  if  this  weariness  hath  come 

A  present  from  on  high, 
Teach  me  to  find  the  hidden  wealth 

That  in  its  depths  may  lie. 

So  in  this  darkness  I  can  learn 

To  tremble  and  adore, 
To  sound  my  own  vile  nothingness, 

And  thus  to  love  Thee  more, — 

To  love  Thee,  and  yet  not  to  think 

That  I  can  love  so  much, — 
To  have  Thee  with  me,  Lord  !  all  day, 

Yet  not  to  feel  thy  touch. 

If  I  have  served  Thee,  Lord  !  for  hire, 
Hire  which  thy  beauty  fhow'd, 

Ah  !  I  can  serve  Thee  now  for  naught, 
And  only  as  my  God. 

O  blefled  be  this  darkness  then, 

This  deep  in  which  I  lie, 
And  blefled  be  all  things  that  teach 

God's  great  supremacy. 

Fain 


Self- Examination.  69 


DISTRACTIONS    IN   PRAYER. 

AH  !   cleared  Lord  !   I  cannot  pray, 
My  fancy  is  not  free  ; 
Unmannerly  diffractions  come, 

And  force  my  thoughts  from  Thee. 

The  world  that  looks  so  dull  all  day 
Glows  bright  on  me  at  prayer, 

And  plans  that  afk  no  thought  but  then 
Wake  up  and  meet  me  there. 

All  nature  one  full  fountain  seems 

Of  dreamy  fight  and  sound, 
Which,  when  I  kneel,  breaks  up  its  deeps, 

And  makes  a  deluge  round. 

Old  voices  murmur  in  my  ear, 

New  hopes  ftart  into  life, 
And  paft  and  future  gayly  blend 

In  one  bewitching  ftrife. 

My  very  flefh  has  reftless  fits; 

My  changeful  limbs  conspire 
With  all  these  phantoms  of  the  mind 

My  inner  self  to  tire. 


70  Self- Examination, 


I   cannot  pray*;  yet,  Lord!   Thou   know'ft 

The  pain   it  is   to  me 
To  have  my  vainly-ftruggling  thoughts 

Thus  torn  away  from  Thee. 

Prayer  was  not  meant  for  luxury, 

Or  selfifh  paftime  sweet  ; 
It  is  the  proftrate  creature's  place 

At  his  Creator's  feet. 

Had  I,  dear  Lord  !   no  pleasure  found 

But  in  the  thought  of  Thee, 
Prayer  would  have  come  unsought,  and  been 

A  truer  liberty. 

Yet  Thou  art  oft  moft  present,  Lord  ! 

In  weak  diftrafted   prayei  j 
A  finner  out  of  heart  with  self 

Moft  often  finds  Thee  there. 

And  prayer  that  humbles,  sets  the  soul 

From  all  illufions  free, 
And  teaches  it  how  utterly, 

Dear  Lord  !   it  hangs  on  Thee. 

The  soul,  that  on  self-sacrifice 

Is  dutifully  bent, 
Will  bless  thy  chaftening  hand  that  makes 

Its  prayer  its  punifhment. 


Self-Examination.  71 


Ah,  Jesus!  why  mould   I   complain? 

And  why  fear  aught  but  fin  ? 
Detractions  are  but  outward  things  ; 

Thy  peace  dwells   far  within! 

These  surface-troubles  come  and  go, 
Like  rufflings  of  the  sea ; 

The  deeper  depth   is  out  of  reach 
To  all,  my  God,  but  Thee  ! 


Faber. 


PREPARATIVE   TO   PRAYER. 

WHEN  thou  doft  talk  with  God — by  prayer  I   mean — 
Lift  up  pure  hands,  lay  down  all  luft's  defires ; 
Fix  thoughts  on   heaven,  present  a  conscience  clean  : 

Since  holy  blame  to  mercy's  throne  aspires, 
Confess  faults'  guilt,  crave  pardon  for  thy  fin, 
Tread  holy  paths,  call  grace  to  guide  therein. 

It  is  the  spirit  with  reverence  must  obey 


Our  Maker' 

s  will,  to 

practise 

what  He 

taught  : 

Make  not  the 

flefh  thy 

council 

when  thou 

pray; 

,T 

is  enemy 

to  every 

virtuous 

thought ; 

It 

is 

the  foe  we  daily  feed  and 

clothe  ; 

It 

is 

the  prison  that  the 

soul  doth  loathe. 

72  Self- Examination. 


Even  as  Elias,  mounting  to  the  fky, 

Did  call   his   mantle  to  the  earth   behind  ; 

So,  when  the  heart  presents  the  prayer  on  high, 
Exclude  the  world   from  traffic  with   the   mind  : 

Lips  near  to  God,  and  ranging  heart  within, 

Is  but  vain  babbling,  and  converts  to  fin. 

As  Abraham,  ascending  up  the  hill 

To  sacrifice  ;   his  servants  left  below, 
That  he  might  act  the  great  Commanders  will, 

Without  impeach   to  his  obedient  blow  ; 
Even  so  the  soul,  remote  from  earthly  things, 
Should  mount  salvation's  fhelter — mercy's  wings. 

Southwell, 


Christ.  73 


CHRIST. 


PASTOR    ANIMARUM. 

(From  the  Spanish.) 

COME,  wandering  fheep,  O  come! 
I'll  bind  thee  to   my  breaft  ; 
I'll  bear  thee  to  thy  home, 
And  lay  thee  down  to  reft. 

I  saw  thee  ftray  forlorn, 
And  heard  thee  faintly  cry, 

And  on  the  tree  of  scorn 
For  thee  I   deign'd  to  die — 
What  greater  proof  could  I 

Give, — than  to  seek  the  tomb  ? 

Come,  wandering  fheep,  O   come  ! 

I   fhield  thee  from  alarms, 
And  wilt  thou  not  be  bleft  ? 

I  bear  thee  in  my  arms  ; 

Thou,  bear  me  in  thy  breaft  ! 
O,  this  is  love — come,  reft — 

This  is  a  blissful  doom. 

Come,  wandering  fheep,   O   come  ! 


74  Christ. 


DOMUS    AUREA. 

LIGHT!    Light!    Infinite  Light! 
The  mountains  melted  away  : 
Ten  thousand  thousand  seraphim  bright 

Were  loft  in  a  blaze  of  day  : 
For  God  was  there,  and  beneath   his   feet 

A  pavement  of  sapphires  glow'd,* 
As  the  mirror  of  glory  transcendantly  meet 
To  reflect  his  own  abode  ! 

Love  !    Love  !    Infinite  Love  ' 

The  lowly  Lady  of  grace 
Bows  underneath  the  o'erfhadowing   Dove, 

Her  eternal  Son  to  embrace  ! 
For  God  is  there,  the  Ancient  of  Days, 

An  Infant  of  human  years  : 
Whilft  angels  around  them  inceflantly  gaze, 

And  nature  is  wrapt  in  tears  ! 

Peace  !    Peace  !    Infinite  Peace  ! 

A  Golden   House  hath  it  found, 
Whose  ineffable  beauty  muft  ever  increase 

With  immortality  crown'd ! 
For  God  was  there,  the  Lord  of  the  skies, 

Whose  loud   alleluias  ran, 
From  heaven   to  earth, — as   Emmanuel  lies 

In  the  arms  of  Mary   for  man  ! 

Li 

. 

*   Exodus  xxiv.  10. 


Christ. 


75 


Jesu  dulcis  memoria. 

JESU  !    the  very  thought  of  Thee 
With   sweetness  fills  my  breaft  ; 
But  sweeter  far  thy  face  to  see, 
And  in  thy  presence  reft. 

Nor  voice  can  sing,  nor  heart  can  frame, 

Nor  can  the  memory  find, 
A  sweeter  sound  than  thy  bleft  name, 

O   Saviour  of  mankind  ! 

O  hope  of  every  contrite  heart, 

O  joy  of  all  the  meek, 
To  those  who  fall,  how  kind  Thou  art ! 

How  good  to  those  who  seek  ! 

But  what  to  those  who  find  ?     ah  !  this 
Nor  tongue  nor  pen  can  show  : 

The  love  of  Jesus,  what  it  is, 
None  but  his  loved  ones  know. 


Jesus  !    our  only  joy  be  Thou, 
As  Thou  our  prize  wilt  be ; 

Jesus  !    be  Thou  our  glory  now, 
And  through  eternity. 


Breviary. 


7  6  Christ. 


Jesu  Rex  admirab'ilis. 

O  JESUS  !    King  moft  wonderful  ! 
Thou  Conqueror  renown'd  ! 
Thou  Sweetness  moft  ineffable  ! 
In  whom  all  joys  are  found  ! 

When  once  Thou  vifiteft  the  heart, 
Then  truth  begins  to  mine  ; 

Then  earthly  vanities  depart  j 
Then  kindles  love  divine. 

O  Jesu  !    Light  of  all  below  ! 

Thou  Fount  of  life  and  fire  ! 
Surpafling  all  the  joys  we  know, 

All  that  we  can  defire  : 

May  every  heart  confess  thy  name, 

And  ever  Thee  adore  ; 
And  seeking  Thee,  itself  inflame 

To  seek  Thee  more  and  more. 

Thee  may  our  tongues  forever  bless  ; 

Thee  may  we  love  alone  ; 
And  ever  in  our  lives  express 

The  imaire  of  thine  own. 


B 


reviary 


Christ. 


77 


Jesu  dccus  angelicum. 

f~\  JESU  !  Thou  the  beauty  art 
^S    Of  angel  worlds  above  ; 
Thy  name  is  mufic  to  the  heart, 
Enchanting  it  with  love. 

Celeftial  sweetness  unalloy'd  ! 

Who  eat  Thee  hunger  ftill ; 
Who  drink  of  Thee  ftill  feel  a  void, 

Which  naught  but  Thou  can  fill. 

O  my  sweet  Jesu  !  hear  the  fighs 
Which  unto  Thee  I  send  ; 

To  Thee  mine  inmoft  spirit  cries, 
My  being's  hope  and  end  ! 

Stay  with  us,  Lord,  and  with  thy  light 

Illume  the  soul's  abyss  ; 
Scatter  the  darkness  of  our  night, 

And  fill  the  world  with  bliss. 

O  Jesu  !  spotless  Virgin  flower  ! 

Our  life  and  joy  !   to  Thee 
Be  praise,  beatitude,  and  power, 

Through  all  eternity. 


Bre 


•viary. 


Christ. 


Marentes  oculi  spargite  lachrymas. 

NOW  let  us  fit  and  weep, 
And  fill  our  hearts  with  woe  : 
Pondering  the  fhame,  and  torments  deep, 
Which  Chrift  from  wicked  men  did  undergo. 

See  !  how  the  multitude, 
With  swords  and  ftaves,  draw  nigh  : 
See  !  how  they  smite,  with  buffets  rude, 
That  head  divine  of  awful  majefty  : 

How,  bound  with  cruel  cord, 
Chrift  to  the  scourge  is  given  ; 
And  ruffians  lift  their  hands,   unawed, 
Againft  the  King  of  Kings  and  Lord  of  Heaven. 

Then  roughly  dragg'd  to  death, 
Chrift  on  the  Cross  is  flain  ; 
And,  as   He  dies,  with   parting  breath, 
Into  his  Father's  hands  gives  back  his  soul  again. 


To  Him  who  so  much  bore, 
To  gain  for  Tinners  grace, 
Be  praise  and  glory  evermore, 
From  the  whole   universal  human  race. 


Breviary, 


Christ. 


><J 


Slyicunque  certum  quteritis. 

ALL  ye  who  seek  a  certain  cure 
In  trouble  and  diftress, 
Whatever  sorrow  vex  the  mind, 
Or  guilt  the  soul  oppress  : 

Jesus,  who  gave  Himself  for  you 

Upon  the  Cross  to  die, 
Opens  to  you  his  sacred  Heart, — 

Oh,  to  that  Heart  draw  nigh  ! 

Ye  hear  how  kindly  He  invites  ; 

Ye  hear  his  words  so  bleft  ; — 
"  All  ye  that  labor,  come  to  Me, 

And  I  will  give  you  reft." 

What  meeker  than  the  Saviour's  Heart  ?■ 

As  on  the  Cross   He  lay, 
It  did  his   murderers  forgive, 

And  for  their  pardon  pray. 

O   Heart !  thou  joy  of  Saints  on  high  ! 

Thou  Hope  of  Tinners  here ! 
Attracted  by  those  loving  words, 

To  Thee  I  lift  my  prayer. 


80  Christ. 

Wafh  Thou  my  wounds   in  that  dear  Blood 
Which   forth  from  Thee  doth  flow  j 

New  grace,  new  hope  inspire  ;  a  new 
And  better  heart  beftow. 

Breviary. 


Summi  Parentis  fitio. 

TO  Chrift,  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
And  Son  of  God  moft   high, 
The  Father  of  the  world  to  come, — 
Sing  we  with  holy  joy. 

Deep  in  his  Heart  for  us 
The  wound  of  love  He  bore  ; — 
That  love,  which  ftill  He  kindles  in 
The  hearts  that  Him  adore. 

O  Fount  of  endless  life  ! 
O   Spring  of  waters  clear! 
O  Flame  celeftial,  cleanfing  all 
Who  unto  Thee  draw  near! 

Hide  me  in  thy  dear  Heart, 

For  thither  do  I   fly  ; 

There  seek  thy  grace  through  life,  in  death 

Thine  immortality. 

Breviary. 


Christ.  81 


JESUS   CRUCIFIED. 

OCOME  and  mourn  with   me  awhile  ; 
See,  Mary  calls  us  to  her  fide  ; 
O   come  and  let  us   mourn   with  her, — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Have  we  no  tears  to  fhed  for  Him, 
While  soldiers  scofF  and  Jews  deride  ? 

Ah  !   look  how  patiently  he  hangs, — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified! 

His  Mother  cannot  reach  his  face  ! 

She  ftands  in  helplefihess  befide, 
Her  heart  is  martyr'd  with  her  Son's, — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Seven  times   He  spoke,  seven  words  of  love, 
And  all  three  hours  his  filence  cried 

For  mercy  on  the  souls  of  men  : — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

What  was  thy  crime,  my  deareft  Lord  ? 

By  earth,  by  heaven,  Thou  haft  been  tried, 
And  guilty   found  of  too  much  love  ; — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified! 


82 


Christ. 


Found  guilty  of  excess  of  love, 

It  was  thine  own  sweet  will  that  tied 

Thee  tighter   far  than  helpless  nails  ; — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Death   came,  and  Jesus   meekly  bow'd  ; 

His  failing  eyes   He  drove  to  guide 
With  mindful  love  to  Mary's   face  ; — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

O   break,  O   break,   hard   heart  of  mine  ! 

Thy  weak  self-love  and  guilty  pride 
His   Pilate  and  his  Judas  were  ; — 

Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

Come,  take  thy  ftand  beneath  the  Cross, 
And  let  the  blood  from  out  that  side 

Fall  gently  on  thee  drop  by  drop  ; — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 


A  broken  heart,  a  fount  of  tears, — 
Afk,  and  they  will  not  be  denied  ; 

A  broken  heart  love's  cradle  is  ; — 
Jesus,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 

O  love  of  God  !   O   sin  of  Man  ! 

In  this  dread  aft  your  ftrength  is  tried  ; 
And  victory  remains  with  love, 

For  He,  our  Love,  is  crucified  ! 


Christ,  83 


EASTER. 

Ad  regias  agn'i  dapes. 

NOW  at  the  Lamb's  high  royal  feaft 
In  robes  of  saintly  white  we  fing, 
Through  the  Red  Sea  in  safety  brought 
By  Jesus  our  immortal  King. 

O  depth  of  love  !   for  us  He  drinks 

The  chalice  of  his  agony  : 
For  us  a  victim  on  the  Cross 

He  meekly  lays  Him  down  to  die. 

And  as  the  avenging  Angel  pass'd 
Of  old  the  blood-besprinkled  door; 

As  the  cleft  sea  a  pafTage  gave, 

Then  closed  to  whelm  th'  Egyptians  o'er  : 

So  Chrift,  our  Paschal  Sacrifice, 

Has  brought  us  safe  all  perils  through  ; 

While  for  unleaven'd  bread  we  need 
But  heart  fincere  and  purpose  true. 

Hail,  pureft  victim  Heaven  could  find, 
The  powers  of  Hell  to  overthrow  ! 

Who  didft  the  chains  of  Death  deftroy  ; 
Who  doft  the  prize  of  Life  beftow. 


84 


Christ. 


Hail,   victor  Chrift  !   hail,  risen  King  ! 

To  Thee  alone  belongs  the  crown  ; 
Who  haft  the  heavenly  gates  unbarr'd, 

And  dragg'd  the  Prince  of  darkness  down. 


O  Jesus  !   from  the  death  of  fin 

Keep  us  we  pray  ;  so  fhalt  Thou  be 

The  everlafting  Paschal  joy 

Of  all  the  souls  new-born  in  Thee 


Breviary 


LIGHT  of  the  Soul,  O   Saviour  bleft  ! 
Soon  as  thy  presence  fills  the  breaft, 
Darkness  and  guilt  are  put  to  flight, 
And  all  is  sweetness  and  delight. 

o 

Son  of  the  Father  !  Lord  moft  high  ! 
How  glad  is  he  who  feels  Thee  nigh  ! 
How  sweet  in  Heaven  thy  beam  doth  glow, 
Denied  to  eye  of  flefh  below  ! 


O  Light  of  Light  celeftial  ! 

O  Charity  ineffable  ! 

Come  in  thy  hidden   majefty  ; 

Fill  us  with  love,  fill  us  with  Thee. 


Breviary. 


Christ. 


85 


Dies  irce  dies  ilia. 

NIGHER  frill,  and  frill  more  nigh 
Draws  the  Day  of  Prophecy, 
Doom'd  to  melt  the  earth  and  iky. 

Oh,  what  trembling  there  fhall  be, 
When  the  world  its  Judge  fhall  see, 
Coming  in  dread  majefty  ! 

Hark !  the  trump,  with  thrilling  tone, 
From  sepulchral  regions  lone, 
Summons  all  before  the  throne  : 

Time  and  Death  it  doth  appall, 
To  see  the  buried  ages  all 
Rise  to  answer  at  the  call. 

Now  the  books  are  open  spread  ; 
Now  the  writing  muft  be  read, 
Which  condemns  the  quick  and  dead  : 


Now,  before  the  Judge  severe 
Hidden  things  muft  all  appear  ; 
Naught  can  pass  unpunifh'd  here. 


86  Christ. 

What  fhall  guilty   I   then   plead  ? 

Who  for  me  will  intercede, 

When  the  Saints  mail  comfort  need  r 

King  of  dreadful  Majefty  ! 
Who  doft  freely  juftify  ! 
Fount  of  Pity,  save  Thou  me! 

Recollect,  O  Love  divine! 
'Twas  for  this  loft  fheep  of  thine 
Thou  thy  glory  didft  refign  : 

Sateft  wearied  seeking  me  ; 
Sufferedft  upon  the  tree  : 
Let  not  vain  thy  labor  be. 

Judge  of  Juftice,  hear  my  prayer ! 
Spare  me,  Lord,  in  mercy  spare! 
Ere  the  Reckoning-day  appear. 

Lo !  thy  gracious   face  I   seek  ; 
Shame  and  grief  are  on  my  cheek ; 
Sighs  and  tears  my  sorrow  speak. 


Thou  didft  Mary's  guilt  forgive; 
Didft  the  dying  thief  receive  ; 
Hence  doth  hope  within  me  live. 


Christ.  87 


Suppliant  in   the  duft   I   lie  ; 

My  heart  a  cinder,  crufh'd  and   dry  ; 

Help  me,  Lord,  when  death  is  nigh! 

Full  of  tears,  and  full  of  dread, 
Is  the  day  that  wak^s  the  dead, 
Calling  all,  with  solemn  blaft, 
From  the  afhes  of  the  paft. 

Lord  of  mercy!  Jesu  bleft! 
Grant  the  Faithful  light  and  reft. 


Missal. 


SaJutis  humane  Sator. 

OTHOU  pure  light  of  souls  that  love, 
Tr.ue  joy  of  every  human  breaft, 
Sower  of  life's  immortal  seed, 

Our  Saviour  and  Redeemer  bleft  ! 

Be  Thou  our  guide,  be  Thou  our  goal ; 

Be  Thou  our  pathway  to  the  Ikies  ; 
Our  joy,  when  sorrow  fills  the  soul ; 

In  death  our  everlafting  prize. 

Breviary. 


88 


Christ. 


ROCK    OF   AGES. 

T}  OCK  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 

■*^-    Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  thy  wounded  side  which  flowed. 

Be  of  sin   the  double  cure  ; 

Save  from  wrath  and  make  me  pure. 

In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring, 
Simply  to  thy  Cross  I   cling; 
Naked  come  to  Thee  for  dress, 
Helpless  look  to  Thee  for  grace, 
Foul,   I  to  the  Fountain   fly  ; 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die. 


While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When   my  eyes  fhall  close  in  death, 
When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown, 
And   behold  Thee  on   thy  throne  ; 
Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee. 

Toplady 


Christ.  89 


THE    DAY   OF   JUDGMENT. 

Dies  ir<z,  dies  ilia. 

LO  !   He  comes  with  clouds  descending, 
Once  for  favor'd  finners  nain  : 
Thousand — thousand  saints  attending, 
Swell  the  triumph  of  his  train  : 
Alleluia !  Alleluia  ! 
Jesus  Chrift  (hall  ever  reign  ! 

See  the  universe  in  motion, 

Sinking  on  her  funeral  pyre, — 
Earth   diflblving,  and  the  ocean 

Vanifhing  in  final  fire  : — 

Hark,  the  trumpet!   Hark,  the  trumpet! 

Loud  proclaims  that  Day  of  Ire ! 

Graves  have  yawn'd  in  countless  numbers,- 

From  the  duft  the  dead  arise : 
Millions,  out  of  filent  {lumbers, 

Wake  in  overwhelm'd  surprise  ; 

Where  creation, — Where  creation, 

Wreck' d  and  torn  in  ruin  lies  ! 

See  the  Judge  our  nature  wearing, 

Pure,  ineffable,  divine  : — 
See  the  great  Archangel  bearing 


9  3  Christ. 

High  in  heaven  the  myftic  fign  : 
Cross  of  Glory !  Cross  of  Glory  ! 
Chrift  be  in  that  moment  mine  ! 

See  Redemption,*  long  expected, 
In  transcendant  pomp  appear, — 

All  his  saints  by  man  rejected, 

Throng  in  gathering  legions    near  : 

Melt,  ye  mountains!  Melt,  ye  mountains! 

Into  smoke, — for  God  is  here! 

Every  eye  fhall  then  behold  Him 

Robed  in  awful  majefty  : — 
Those  that  set  at  naught,  and  sold   Him, 

Pierced  and  nail'd  Him  to  a  tree, — 

Deeply  wailing, — Deeply  wailing, 

Shall  the  true  Mefliah  see! 

Lo !  the  laft  long  separation  ! 

As  the  cleaving  crowds  divide  ; 
And  one  dread  adjudication 

Sends  each  soul  to  either  fide ! 

Lord  of  mercy!  Lord  of  mercy! 

How  fhall  I  that  day  abide  ! 

Oh !   may  thine  own  Bride  and   Spirit 
Then  avert  a  dreadful   doom, — 

And  me  summon  to  inherit 
An  eternal  blissful  home  : — 
*  Romans  viii.  23. 


Christ.  9 1 


Ah!  come  quickly!  Ah!  come  quickly! 
Let  thy  second  Advent  come  ! 

Yea,  Amen !  Let  all  adore  Thee, 
On  thine  amaranthine  throne! 

Saviour, — take  the  power  and  glory, 
Claim  the  kingdom   for  thine  own  ! 
Men  and  angels  :  Men  and  angels, 
Kneel  and  bow  to  Thee  alone  ! 


Brydges. 


'Tinctam  ergo  Christi  sanguine. 

OH,  turn  those  blefTed  points,  all  bathed 
In  Jesu's  blood,  on  me  ; 
Mine  were  the  fins  that  wrought  his  death, 
Mine  be  the  penalty. 

Pierce  through  my  feet,  my  hands,  my  heart 

So  may  some  drop  diftill 
Of  blood  divine,  into  my  soul, 

And  all  its  evils  heal. 

So  fhall  my  feet  be  flow  to  fin, 

Harmless  my  hands  mail  be  ; 
So  from  my  wounded  heart  mall  each 

Forbidden  paflion  flee. 

Breviary. 


I 


92  Christ. 


MOST   HOLY   NAME   OF   JESUS. 

OH  !  that  it  were  as  it  was  wont  to  be, 
When  thy  old  friends  of  fire,  all  full  of  Thee, 
Fought  againft  frowns  with  smiles  !  gave  glorious  chase 
To  persecutions,  and  againft  the  face 
Of  death  and  fierceft  dangers  durft,  with  brave 
And  sober  pace  march  on  to  meet  a  grave. 
On  their  bold  breafts  about  the  world  they  bore  Thee. 
And  to  the  teeth  of  hell  ftood  up  to  teach  Thee  ; 
In  centre  of  their  inmoft  souls  they  wore  Thee, 
Where  racks  and  torments  ftrived  in  vain  to  reach  Thee, 
Each  wound  of  theirs  was  thy  new  morning, 
And  reenthroned  Thee  in  thy  rosy  neft. 
With  blufh  of  thine  own  blood  thy  day  adorning  : 
It  was  the  wit  of  love  o'erflowed  the  bounds 
Of  wrath,  and  made  the  way  through  all  these  wounds. 
Welcome,  dear,  all-adored  name ! 
For  sure  there  is  no  knee 
That  knows  not  Thee  ; 

Or,  if  there  be  such  sons  of  fhame, 
Alas !  what  will  they  do, 

When  ftubborn  rocks  fhall  bow, 
And  hills  hang  down  their  heaven-saluting  heads, 
To  seek  for  humble  beds 

Of  duft,  where,  in  the  bamful  (hades  of  night, 
Next  to  their  own  low  nothing  they  may  lie, 


1 


Christ.  93 


And  crouch  before  the  dazzling  light  of  thy  dread  majefty  ? 
They  that  by  love's  mild  dictate  now 

Will  not  adore  Thee, 
Shall  then  with  just  confufion  bow, 

And  break  before  Thee. 

Crashaw. 


RISE— GLORIOUS   CONQUEROR,   RISE. 

RISE — glorious  Conqueror,  rise  j 
Into  thy  native  fkies, — 
AfTume  thy  right : 
And  where  in  many  a  fold 
The  clouds  are  backward  roll'd — 
Pass  through  those  gates  of  gold, 
And  reign  in  light  ! 

Victor  o'er  death  and  hell! 
Cherubic  legions  swell 

The  radiant  train  : 
Praises  all  heaven  inspire  ; 
Each  angel  sweeps  his  lyre, 
And  waves  his  wings  of  fire,— 

Thou  Lamb  once  slain  ! 

Enter,  Incarnate  God  ! — 
No  feet,  but  thine,  have  trod 
The  serpent  down  : 


94 


Christ. 


Jilow  the   full   trumpets,  blow  ! 
Wider  yon   portals   throw  ! 
Saviour — triumphant — go, 
And   take   thy  crown  ! 

Lion  of  Judah — Hail  ! — 
And  let  thy  name  prevail 

From  age  to  age  : 
Lord  of  the  rolling  years, — 
Claim  for  thine  own  the  spheres, 
For  Thou  hast  bought  with  tears 

Thy  heritage  ! 

Yet — who  are  these  behind, 
In  numbers  more  than  mind 

Can  count  or  say — 
Clothed  in  immortal  stoles, 
Illumining  the  poles — 
A  galaxy  of  souls, 

In  white  array  ? 


And  then  was  heard  afar 
Star  answering  to  star — 

Lo  !  these  have  come, 
Followers  of  Him,  who  gave 
His  life,  their  lives   to   save  ; 
And  now  their  palms  they  wave, 

Brought  safely  home. 


Brydgcs. 


CJirist. 


95 


HEAD  of  the  Hofts  in  glory! 
We  joyfully  adore  Thee, — 
Thy  church  on  earth  below, 
Blending  with   those  on  high, — 
Where  through  the  azure  slcy 
Thy  saints  in  ecftasy, — 
For  ever  glow ! 

Then  raise  the  song  of  gladness, 
To  diflipate  our  sadness^ 

Along  this  vale  of  tears  : 
We  wend  our  weary  way 
Up  towards  the  realms  of  day, — 
And  watch, — and  wait, — and  pray, 

Conftant  in  fears  ! 


Holy  Apoftles  !  beaming 

With   radiance  brightly  ftreaming 

From  diadems  of  power  ; 
Call  on  the  awful  name, — 
That  we,  through   flood  and  flame 
The  gospel  may  proclaim 

In  every  hour! 

Martyrs  ! — whose  myftic  legions 
March  o'er  yon   heavenly  regions 
In  triumph  round  and  round  ; 


96 


Christ. 


Wave — wave  your  banners — wave! 
For  Christ — our  Saviour,  clave 
For  Death  itself  a  grave,— 
In   hell   profound ! 

Saints!— in  fair  circles,  carting 
Rich  trophies  everlafting 

At  Jesu's  pierced  feet, — 
Amidst  our  rude  alarms, 
Stretch  forth  your  conquering  arms, 
That  we  too,  safe   from  harms, 

In  heaven  may  meet ! 

Virgins! — in  bliss  transcendent, 
Whose  coronals  resplendent 

Unwithering  bloom  : 
Exalt,  in  ceaseless  lays, 
Him  whom  all  anthems  praise, 
And  oft  our  spirits  raise 

With  your  perfume  ! 

Angels — Archangels  !   glorious 
Guards  of  the  church  victorious  ! 

Sing  to  the  Lamb! 
Crown  Him  with  crowns  of  light, — 
One  of  the  Three  by  right, — 
Love, — Majesty, — and  Might, — 

The  Great  I  am! 


Brydgt 


Christ.  97 


"AND    JESUS   WEPT." 
St.  John  xi.   35. 

BRIGHT  were  the  mornings  first  impearl'd 
O'er  earth,  and  sea,  and  air ; 
The  birthdays  of  a  rifing  world — 
For  power  divine  was  there. 

But  fairer  shone  the  tears  of  Christ 

For  Lazarus,  o'er  his  grave ; 
Since  love  divine  bedew'd  the  sod 

Of  one  He  sought  to  save. 

Sweet  drops  of  grace,  the  pledges  given 

Of  Mercy's  mighty  plan, — 
That  He,  who  was  the  Prince  of  heaven, 

Had  pity  upon   man  ! 

Let  us  thy  dear  example,  Lord, 

Fix'd  in  our  memories  keep, — 
That  we,  obedient  to  thy  word, 

May  weep  with  those  that  weep. 

Brydges. 


9H  Christ. 


BRIGHT  cherubim  and  seraphim, 
In  one   myfterious  crowd, 
Expand   the  everlafting  hymn 
That  rolls  from  cloud  to  cloud. 

Odors,  in  folds  of  fragrant  fumes, 

Pervade  the  ravifh'd  fkies  ; 
Whilst  angels  form,  with  arching  plumes, 

A  firmament  of  eyes!* 

They  gaze,  and  as  they  gaze,  they  shine, 

And  as  they  shine,  admire, 
With  adoration  all  divine, — 

AH  love,— all  life,— all  fire! 

No  temple  there  is  made  with  hands 

By  human  priefthood  trod  ; 
Alone  the  once-slain  Victim  stands, 

The  living  Lamb  of  God  ! 

Brydges. 

•  Ezek.  i.  18-23  :  x.  ia.     Apocal.  iv.  8. 


Christ.  99 


^uicunque  Christum  quaritis. 

ALL  ye  who  seek,  in  hope  and   love, 
For  your  dear  Lord,  look,  up  above! 
Where,  traced  upon  the  azure  fky, 
Faith   may  a  glorious   form  descry. 

Lo!  on  the  trembling  verge  of  light 
A  something  all  divinely  bright! 
Immortal,  infinite,  sublime! 
Older  than  chaos,  space,  or  time ! 

Hail,  Thou,  the  Gentiles'  mighty  Lord! 
All  hail,  O  Israel's  King  adored! 
To  Abraham  sworn  in  ages  paft, 
And  to  his  seed  while  earth  shall  laft. 

To  Thee  the  prophets  witness  bear  j 
Of  Thee  the  Father  doth  declare, 
That  all  who  would  his  glory  see, 
Muft  hear  and  muff  believe  in  Thee. 


Breviary. 


100 


Saints,   Martyrs,  &C. 


SAINTS,  MARTYRS,  &c. 


ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
Antra  desertl  tcneris  sub  annis. 

IN  caves  of  the  lone  wilderness  thy  youth 
Thou  hiddeft,  (hunning  the  rude  throng  of  men, 
And  guarding  the  pure  treasure  of  thy  soul 
From  the  leaft  touch  of  fin. 

There  to  thy  sacred  limbs  the  camel  gave 
A  garment  coarse  ;  the  rock  a  bed  supplied  j 
The  ftream  thy  third;  locufts  and  honey  wild 
Thy  hunger  satisfied. 

Oh,  bleft  beyond  the  Prophets  of  old  time! 
They  of  the  Saviour  sang  that  was  to  be  : 
Him  present  to  announce,  and  show  to  all, 
Was  granted  but  to  thee. 

Through  the  wide  earth  was  never  mortal   man 
Born  holier  than  John  ;  to  whom  was  given 
The  guilty  world's  Baptizer  to  baptize, 
And  ope  the  door  of  Heaven. 

Breviary. 


Saints^  Martyrs ^  iffc.  101 


CHRIST. 

Christc,  sanctorum  dccus  angehrum. 

f~\    CHRIST  !   the  beauty  of  the  angel  worlds  ! 
^^    Of  man  the  Saviour  and  Redeemer  bleft  ! 
Grant  us  one  day  to  mount  the  path  of  light, 
And  in  thy  glory  reft. 

Angel  of  Peace  !  thou,  Michael,  from  above, 
Come  down,  amid  the  homes  of  man  to  dwell ; 
And  banish  wars,  with  all  their  tears  and   blood, 
Back  to  their  native  Hell. 

Angel  of  Strength  !  thou,  Gabriel,  caft  out 
Thine  ancient  foes,  usurpers  of  thy  reign  ; 
The  temples  of  thy  triumph  round   the  globe 
Revifit  once  again. 

And  Raphael,  Physician  of  the  soul, — 
Let  him  descend  from  his  pure  halls  of  light, 
To  heal  the  fick,   and  guide  each   doubtful  course 
Through  all  our  life  aright. 

Thou  too,  O  Virgin,  with  the  angel  choirs, 
Mother  of  Light,  and   Queen  of  Peace  !   descend 
And  bring  with  thee  the  radiant  Court  of  Heaven 
Thy  children  to  befriend. 

Breviary. 


_J 


102 


Saints,  Martyrs,  &c. 


OF  MANY  MARTYRS. 
Sanctorum  meritis  inclyta  gaudia. 

SING  we  the  peerless  deeds  of  martyr'd   Saints, 
Their  glorious  merits,  and  their  portion  bleft  ; 
Of  all  the  conquerors  the  world  has  seen, 
The  greateft  and  the  beft. 

Them  in  their  day  th'  insensate  world  abhorr'd, 
Because  they  did  forsake  it,  Lord,  for  Thee; 
Finding  it  all  a  barren  wafte,  devoid 
Of  fruit,  or  flower,  or  tree. 

They  trod  beneath  them  every  threat  of  man, 
And  came  victorious  all  torments  through  ; 
The  iron  hooks,  which  piecemeal  tore  their  flesh, 
Could  not  their  souls  subdue. 

Scourged,  crucified,  like  fheep  to  flaughter  led, 
Unmurmuring  they  met  their  cruel   fate  ; 
For  conscious  innocence  their  souls  upheld, 
In  patient  virtue  great. 

What  tongue  those  joys,  O  Jesus,  can  disclose, 
Which  for  thy  martyr'd  Saints  Thou  doll:  prepare  ! 
Happy  who  in  thy  pains,  thrice  happy  those 
Who  in  thy  glory  fhare  ! 


Saints,   Martyrs,  &c. 


^i 


Our  faults,  our  fins,  our  miseries  remove, 
Great  Deity  supreme,  immortal  King  ! 
Grant  us  thy  peace,  sirant  us  thine  endless  love 
Through  endless  years  to  fing. 

Breviary. 


jEterna  Christi  munera. 

THE  Lord's  eternal  gifts, 
Th'  Apoftles'  mighty  praise, 
Their  victories,  and  high  reward, 
Sing  we  in  joyful  lays. 

Lords  of  the  churches  they  ; 
Triumphant  Chiefs  of  war  ; 
Brave  Soldiers  of  the  Heavenly  Court ; 
True  lights  for  evermore. 

Theirs  was  the  Saints'  high  Faith  ; 
And  quenchless   Hope's  pure  glow  ; 
And  perfect  Charity,  which  laid 
The  world's  fell  tyrant  low. 


In  them  the  Father  mone  ; 
In  them  the  Son  o'ercame  ; 
In  them  the  Holy  Spirit  wrought, 
And   fill'd  their  hearts  with   flame. 


Br? 


104 


Saints^  Martyrs %  erV. 


ST.  STEPHEN. 

0  qui  tuo  dux  Marty  rum. 

O   CAPTAIN  of  the  Martyr  Hoft! 
O  peerless  in  renown  ! 
Not  from  the   fading  flowers  of  earth 
Weave  we  for  thee  a  crown. 


The  ftones  that  smote  thee,  in  thy  blood 

Made  glorious  and  divine, 
All  in  a  halo  heavenly  bright 

About  thy  temples  mine. 

The  scars  upon  thy  sacred  brow 
Throw  beams  of  glory  round  ; 

The  splendors  of  thy  bruised  face 
The  very  sun  confound. 

Oh,  earlieft  Victim  sacrificed 

To  thy  dear  Victim  Lord  ! 
Oh,  earlieft  witness  to  the   Faith 

Of  thy  Incarnate   God  ! 

Thou  to  the  heavenly  Canaan   firft 
Through  the  Red   Sea  didft  go, 

And   to  the  Martyrs*  countless   Hoft, 
Their  path   of  glory   fhow. 


Saints )    Martyrs,   &c.  105 


Erewhile  a  servant  of  the  poor, — 
Now  at  the  Lamb's  high  Feaft, 

In  blood-empurpled   robe  array'd, 
A   welcome   nuptial  gueft  ! 


Breviary. 


ST.   JOHN    THE    BAPTIST. 
O  nimis  felix  meritlque  celsi. 

O   BLESSED  Saint,  of  snow-white  purity  ! 
Dweller  in  waftes   forlorn  ! 
O   mightieft  of  the  Martyr  hoft  on  high  ! 
Greater!:  of  Prophets  born  ! 

Of  all  the  diadems  that  on  the  brows 

Of  Saints  in  glory  mine, 
Not  one  with  brighter,  purer  halo  glows, 

In  Heaven's  high  Court,  than  thine. 

Oh  !    upon  us  thy  tender,  pitying  gaze 

Caft  down  from  thy  dread  throne  ; 
Straighten  our  crooked,  smooth  our  rugged  ways, 

And  break  our  hearts  of  ftone. 

So  may  the  world's  Redeemer  find  us  meet 

To  offer  Him  a  place, 

Where   He  may  set  his  ever-blefTed   feet 

Coming  with  gifts  of  grace. 

Breviary , 


io6 


Saints^  Martyrs^  &c. 


ST.    FRANCIS   XAVIER. 


LO  !  on  the  flope  of  yonder  fhore 
Beneath  that  lonely  fhed, — 
A  saint  hath  found  his  conflicts  o'er, 
And  laid  his  dying  head  ! 

No  gloom  of  fear  hath  glazed    his  eye, 
For  though  loud  billows  roll, — 

The  Aurora  of  Eternity 
Is  rifing  on  his  soul. 

The  glorious  Saviour  of  his  love 

Receives  him  in  his  arms, 
And  bears  him,  like  a  ransom'd  dove, 

Away  from  all  alarms  ! 

Champion  of  Jesus  ! — man  of  God, 
Servant  of  Chrift,   well  done ! 

Thy  path  of  thorns  hath  now  been  trod, 
Thy  red-cross  crown  is  won  ! 

O'er  the  wide  wafte  of  watery  waves, 
And  leagues  on  leagues  of  land, 

Amidit  a  wilderness  of  graves, 
With  death  on  every  hand, — 


Saints^  Martyrs ,  iffc.  107 

He  flew  to  woo  and  win  a  world  ; 

That  men   might  kiss  the  feet 
Of  Him,  whose  banner  he  unfurl'd, — 

Father, — Son, — Paraclete ! 

His  tongue,  the  Spirit's  two-edged  sword, 

Had  magic  in  its  blade, — 
For  while  it  smote  with  every  word, 

It  heal'd  the  wounds  it  made  ! 

His  lips  were  love,  his  touch  was  power, 

His  thoughts  were  vivid  flame, 
The  flames  of  a  thunder-mower — 

Where'er,  or  when  they  came  ! 

Around  him  fhone  the  light  of  life, 

Before  him  darkness  fell — 
Satan  receded  from  the  ftrife, 

And  sought  his  native  hell ! 

Yet,  who  so  humbly  walk'd  as  he, 

A  conqueror  in  the  field, 
Wreathing  the  rose  of  victory 

Around  his  radiant  shield  ? 

As  filvery  clouds,  at  eventide, 

Float  on  the  balmy  gale, 
Nor  seem  to  heed  the  ftars  they  hide 

Behind  their  fleecy  veil ; 


I08  Saints,    .Martyrs, 

So  lowly  sense  of  flighted:  worth 
Frefh  graces  o'er  him  threw  ; 

For  he  unconscious  lived  on  earth, 
Of  all  the  praise  he  drew  ! 

Champion  of  Jesus  !  on  that  breaft 
From  whence  thy  fervor  flow'd, 

Thou  haft  obtain'd   eternal  reft, 
The  bosom  of  thy  God  ! 

Brydges, 


ST.    ELIZABETH,   QUEEN    OF    PORTUGAL. 

Domare  cordis  impetus  Elizabeth. 

PURE,  meek,  with  soul  serene, 
Sweeter  to  her  it  was  to  serve  unseen 
Her  God,  than  reign  a  queen. 

Now  far  above  our  fight, 
Enthroned   upon   the  azure  ftar-paved  height, 
She  reigns  in  realms  of  light  ; 

So  long  as  time  fhall  flow, 
Teaching  to  all  who  sit  on  thrones  below, 
The  good  that  power  can  do. 

Breviary, 


Saints^  Martyrs^  1)9 


MARTYRDOM    OF    ST.    LUCY. 

WE  watch'd,  as  she  linger'd  all  the  day 
Beneath   the  torturer's   fkill  ; 
And  we  pray'd  that  the  spirit  might  pass  away, 

And  the  weary  frame  be  frill. 
'Twas  a  long  fharp  ftruggle  from  darkness  to  light, 

And  the  pain  was   fierce  and  sore  ; 
But  she,  we  knew,  in   her  latefl  fight 
Muff  be   more  than  conqueror  ! 

Oh,  what  a  change  had  the  prison  wrought 

Since  we  gazed  upon  her  laft ! 
And  mournful  the  leflbns  her  thin   frame  taught 

Of  the  sufferings  she  had  paft  : 
Of  pain  and  fickness — not  of  fear  ! 

There  was  courage  in  her  eye  : 
And  she  enter'd  the  amphitheatre 

As  to  triumph,  and  not  to  die! 

And  once,  when  we  could   not  bear  to  see 

Her  sufferings,  and  turn'd  the  head, 
"  His  rod  and  His  ftaff  they  comfort  me," 

The  virgin  martyr  said  : 
It  was  near  the  setting  of  the  sun, 

And  her  voice  wax'd  faint  and  low ; 
And   we  knew  that  her  race  was  well-nigh  run, 

And  her  time  drew  near  to  go. 


I  10 


Saints^   Martyrs^  &c. 


We  could  almoft  deem   the  clouds  that  roll'd 

In   the  ruddy  sun's  decline 
To  be  chariots  of  fire  and   horses  of  gold 

On  the  fteep  of  Mount  Aventine  : 
Yea,  guardian  angels  bent  their  way 

From  their  own  flues'  cloudless  blue, 
And  a  triumph  more  glorious  was  thine  to-day 

Than  ever  the  Caesar  knew  ! 

We  lay  thee  here  in  the  narrow  cell 
Where  thy  friends  and  brethren  fleep  j 

And  we  carve  the  palm,  of  thy  lot  to  tell, 
And  we  do  not  dare  to  weep. 

Hopefully  wait  we  God's  holy  time 
That  fhall  call   us  to  fhare  thy  reft"; 

Till  then,  we  muft  dwell  in  an   alien  clime. 


While  thou  art  in   Abraham's  breaft. 


Neale. 


Saints^  Martyrs^  L\-.  1 1  i 


THE   SISTER   OF   CHARITY. 

SHE  once  was  a  lady  of  honor  and  wealth  ; 
Bright  glow'd   in  her  features  the  roses  of  health  ; 
Her  vefture  was  blended  of  filk  and  of  gold, 
And  her  motion  moolc  perfume  from  every  fold  : 
Joy  revell'd  around  her — love  fhone  at  her  fide, 
And  gay  was  her  smile  as  the  glance  of  a  bride  ; 
And  light  was  her  ftep  in  the  mirth-sounding  hall, 
When  fhe  heard  of  the  daughters  of  Vincent  de  Paul. 

She  felt  in  her  spirit  the  summons  of  grace, 
That  callM   her  to  live  for  her  suffering  race ; 
And,  heedless  of  pleasure,  of  comfort,  of  home, 
Rose  quickly,  like  Mary,  and  answer'd  "  I  come." 
She  put  from  her  person  the  trappings  of  pride, 
And  pafFd  from  her  home  with  the  joy  of  a  bride, 
Nor  wept  at  the  threfhold  as  onward  fhe  moved — 
For  her  heart  was  on  fire  in  the  cause  it  approved. 

Loft  ever  to  fafhion — to  vanity  loft, 
That  beauty  that  once  was  the  song  and  the  toaft— 
No  more  in  the  ball-room  that  figure  we  meet, 
But  gliding  at  dufk  to  the  wretch's  retreat. 
Forgot  in  the  halls  is  that  high-sounding  name, 
For  the  Sister  of  Charity  blushes  at  fame  : 


112 


Saints^   Martyrs ,  &c. 


Forgot  are  the  claims  of  her  riches  and   birth, 
For  me  barters  for  heaven  the  glory  of  earth. 

Those   feet,  that  to  music  could  gracefully  move, 

Now  bear  her  alone  on  the  miffion  of  love  ; 

Those  hands,  that  once  dangled  the  perfume  and  gem, 

Are  tending  the   helpless,  or  lifted   for  them  ; 

That  voice,  that  once  echo'd  the  song  of  the  vain, 

Now  whispers  relief  to  the  bosom  of  pain  ; 

And  the  hair  that  was  mining  with   diamond  and  pearl, 

Is  wet  with  the  tears  of  the  penitent  girl. 

Her  down-bed,  a  pallet — her  trinkets,  a  bead, 

Her  luftre — one  taper,  that  serves  her  to  read  ; 

Her  sculpture — the  crucifix  nail'd  by  her  bed  ; 

Her  paintings, — one  print  of  the  thorn-crowned  head  ; 

Her  cufhion — the  pavement  that  wearies  her  knees  ; 

Her  mufic — the  psalm,  or  the  figh  of  disease  : 

The  delicate  lady  lives  mortified  there, 

And  the  feaft  is  forsaken  for  fading  and  prayei. 

Yet  not  to  the  service  of  heart  and  of  mind, 

Are  the  cares  of  that  heaven-minded  virgin  confined  : 

Like  Him  whom  she  loves,  to  the  manfions  of  grief 

She  haftes  with  the  tidings  of  joy  and  relief. 

She  ftrengthens  the  weary — (he  comforts  the  weak, 

And  soft  is  her  voice  in  the  ear  of  the   Tick  ; 

Where  want  and  affliction  on  mortals  attend, 

The  Sifter  of  Charity  there  is  a  friend. 


Saints )  AlurtyrS)  &c.  113 

Unfhrinking  where  peftilence  scatters  his  breath, 
Like  an   angel   fhe   moves,   mid   the   vapors  of  death  ; 
Where   rings   the  loud   mufket,  and   flames   the   sword, 
Unfearing  fhe  walks,  for  me  follows  her  Lord. 
How  sweetly  fhe  bends  o'er  each  plague-tainted  face, 
With   looks   that  are  lighted   with   holiefr.   grace  ; 
How   kindly  fhe  drefles  each  suffering  limb, 
For  fhe  sees  in  the  wounded  the  image  of  Him. 

Behold  her,  ye  worldly  !   behold  her,  ye  vain  ! 
Who  fhrink  from  the  pathway  of  virtue  and  pain  ; 
WTho  yield  up  to  pleasure  your  nights  and  your  days, 
Forgetful  of  service,  forgetful  of  praise. 
Ye  lazy  philosophers,  self-seeking  men — 
Ye  firefide  philanthropes,  great  at  the  pen, 
How  ftands  in  the  balance  your  eloquence  weigh'd 
With  the  life  and  the  deeds  of  that  high-born  maid  ? 

Griffin. 


H4  Saints,  Martyrs,   is\\ 


MARTYRDOM  OF  THE  INNOCENTS. 

LOVELY   flowers  of  martyrs,  hail! 
Smitten  by  the  tyrant  foe 
On  life's  threfhold, — as   the  gale 
Strews  the  roses  ere  they  blow. 

Firft  to  die  for  Chrift,  sweet  lambs  ! 

At  the  very  altar  ye, 
With  your  fatal  crowns  and  palms, 

Sport  in  your  fimplicity. 

Breviary. 


IN   MEMORIAM. 


H 


"OLY  and  innocent  were  all  his  ways  ; 
Sweet,  temperate,  unftain'd  ; 
His  life  was  prayer, — his  every  breath  was  praise, 
While  breath  to  him  remain'd. 


To  God,  of  all  the  centre  and  the  source, 

Be  power  and  glory  given  ; 
Who  sways  the  mighty  world  through  all  its  course, 

From  the  bright  throne  of  Heaven. 

Breviary, 


Saints,   Martyrs,   Iffc.  1 1 5 


ST.    MARY   MAGDALENE. 

Pater  suferni  luminis. 

FATHER  of  lights  !  one  glance  of  Thine, 
Whose  eyes  the  Universe  control, 
Fills  Magdalene  with  holy  love, 
And  melts  the  ice  within  her  soul. 

Her  precious  ointment  forth  fhe  brings, 
Upon  those  sacred  feet  to  pour  ; 

She  wafhes  them  with  burning  tears  ; 
And  with  her  hair  me  wipes  them  o'er. 

Impassioned  to  the  Cross  fhe  clings  ; 

Nor  fears  befide  the  tomb  to  ftay  ; 
Of  ruffian  soldiers  naught  fhe  recks, 

For  love  has  cafl  all  fear  away. 

O  Chrift,  thou  very  Love  itself! 

Bleft  hope  of  man,  through  Thee  forgiven  ! 
So  touch  our  spirits  from  above, 

And  purify  our  souls  for  Heaven. 

Breviary. 


n6 


Communion   Service. 


COMMUNION   SERVICE, 


LO  !   upon  the  Altar  lies, 
Hidden  deep  from  human  eyes, 
Bread  of  Angels  from  the  fkies, 

Made  the   food  of  mortal  man  : 
Children's   meat  to  dogs  denied  ; 
In  old  types  forefignified 
In  the  manna  Heaven-supplied, 
Isaac,  and  the  Paschal  Lamb. 


Jesus  !  Shepherd  of  the  sheep  ! 
Thou  thy  flock  in  safety  keep. 
Living  Bread  !  thy  life  supply  ; 
Strengthen   us,  or  else  we  die  ; 

Fill   us  with   celeftial  grace  : 
Thou  who  feedeft  us  below  ! 
Source  of  all  we  have  or  know  ! 
Grant  that  with  thy  Saints  above, 
Sitting  at  the   feaft  of  love, 

We  may  see  Thee  face  to  face. 


Missal. 


Communion  Service.  117 


ASPIRATIONS    AFTER    COMMUNION. 

PRESERVE,  my  Jesus,  oh  preserve 
My  soul  to  everlafting  life. 
Oh,   may  this  bleft  communion  serve 
To  aid   my  soul  in  paflion's  ftrife  : 
Oh,  may  thy  body,   may  thy  blood, 
Be  to  my  soul  a  saving  food, 
To  fill  it  frill  with  life  and  grace, 
And  every  finful  ftain  efface  ! 

To  bless  Thee  be  my  sole  employ, 

My  God,  my  Saviour,  great  and  kind  ! 

Inflame  my  heart  with  holy  joy  ; 

Teach   me,  in  praifing  Thee,  to  find 

Warm  thoughts  and   feelings  warm,  whose  gk 

My  gratitude  may  aptly  mow. 

But  no,   my  God  !  nor  word,  nor  thought, 

Could  bless  and  praise  Thee  as  I  ought. 

Weak  praise  were  mine.     Do  Thou  inspire 

My  soul  with  love  and  living  fire. 

Oh,  may  this  cold  and  lowly  breaft 

Be  warm'd  by  Thee,  its  God,  its  gueft. 

May  it  by  Thee  be  moved  to  love, 

And  taught  thy  saving  grace  to  improve. 

Take,  then,  my  thoughts  from  all  but  Thee. 
To  Thee,  may  ev'ry  impulse  tend. 


I  [I 


Communion   Service. 


What  'vails  to  tell   my   misery  ? 

I   have   my   God — my  gueft — my   friend  : 
So  be  His  praise  my  only  theme  ! 
All  wants  my   Saviour  will  redeem. 
My  Saviour  knows  whate'er  I  need — 
He  gives  Himself:  and  (hall  I  plead 
For  other  boons  ?     No  !  let  me  raise 
Mine  ev'ry  thought  in  love  and  praise. 
Dear  Lord,  no  other  prayer  I   form 
Than  for  devotion  pure  and  warm. 
May  warm  devotion  fill   my  soul  ; 
May  love  for  Thee  each  thought  control  ; 
May  piety  increase  j  and  prayer 
Mine  ev'ry  thought,  word,  action   fhare  ; 
The  gift  of  love  my  sole  requeft — 
Thou,  God  of  love  !  wilt  grant  the  reft. 


Dear  Lord  !   may  this  Communion  prove 
A  never-failing  bond  of  love. 
Forgive  my  coldness,  and  supply 
Mine  every  weak  deficiency. 
May  thy  beft  grace  suffice  for  all, 
And  every  wayward  sense  enthrall  : 
Such  grace  on  every   feeling  pour 
As  ne'er  may  leave  thy  servant  more  : 
Each  hope,  each  impulse  firmly  bind 
In  grace  to  Thee,  my  Saviour  kind  : 
Such  saving  grace,  dear  Lord,  be  given 
As  leads  the  happy  soul  to  heaven. 

J.   R.   Beste. 


Dedication  of  a   Church,  119 


DEDICATION    OF    A   CHURCH 


Alto  ex  Olympi  <vertice. 

FROM  higheft  Heaven,  the  Father's  Son, 
Descending  like  that  myftic  ftone 
Cut  from  a  mountain  without  hands, 
Came  down  below,  and  filled  all  lands  ; 
Uniting,  midway  in  the  iky, 
His  House  on  earth,  and  House  on  high. 

That  House  on  high, — it  ever  rings 
With  praises  of  the  King  of  kings  ; 
For  ever  there,  on  harps  divine, 
They  hymn  th'  eternal   One  and  Trine  ; 
We,  here  below,  the  ftrain  prolong, 
And  faintly  echo  Sion's  song. 

O  Lord  of  lords  invifible  ! 
With  thy  pure  light  this  temple  fill  : 
Hither,  oft  as  invoked,  descend  ; 
Here  to  thy   people's  prayer  attend  : 
Here,  through  all  hearts,  for  evermore, 
The  Spirit's  quick'ning  graces   pour. 


120 


Dedication   of  a   Church. 


Here   may  the   Faithful,   day  by  dav, 
In   kneeling  adoration   pray  ; 
And   here  receive   from   thy  dear  love 
The  bleffings  of  that   home  above  ; 
Till,  ioosen'd   from  this  mortal  chain, 
Its  everlafting  joys  they  gain. 

Breviary, 


Calestis  urbs  Jerusalem. 

JERUSALEM,  thou  City  bleft  ! 
Dear  vifion  of  celeftial  reft! 
Which   far  above  the  ftarry  fky, 
Piled   up  with   living  ftones  on   high, 
Art,  as  a  Bride,  encircled  bright, 
With  million  angel  forms  of  light  : 

Oh,  wedded  in  a  prosperous  hour  ! 
The  Father's  glory  was  thy  dower ; 
The   Spirit  all  His  graces  fhed, 
Thou  peerless   Queen,   upon   thy  head  ; 
When   Chrift  espoused  thee   for  his  Bride, 
O   City  bright  and  glorified  ! 

Thy  gates  a  pearly  luftre  pour  ; 
Thy  gates  are  open  evermore  ; 


Dedication  of  a   Church.  ill 

And   thither  evermore  draw  nigh 
All  who  for  Chrift   have  dared  to  die  ; 
Or  smit  with  love  of  their  dear  Lord, 
Have  pains  endured,  and  joys  abhorr'd. 

Thou  too,   O   Church,  which   here  we  see! 
No  easy  tafk  hath   builded  thee. 
Long  did  the  chisels  ring  around  ! 
Long  did  the  mallets*  blows  rebound ! 
Long  worlc'd  the  head  and  toil'd  the  hand  ! 
Ere  flood  thy  ftones  as  now  they  ftand ! 

Breviary. 


1 2  2  Miscellaneous . 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


THE   ASCENSION. 

WHY  is  thy  face  so  lit  with  smiles, 
Mother  of  Jesus  !  why  ? 
And  wherefore  is  thy  beaming  look 
So  fixed  upon  the  fky  ? 

From  out  thine  overflowing  eyes 

Bright  lights  of  gladness  part, 
As  though  some  gufhing  fount  of  joy 

Had  broken  in  thy  heart. 

Mother !  how  canft  thou  smile  to-day  ? 

How  can  thine  eyes  be  bright, 
When  He,  thy  Life,  thy  Love,  thine  All, 

Hath  vanifh'd  from  thy  fight  ? 

His  rifing  form  on  Olivet 

A  summer's  fhadow  caft  ; 
The  branches  of  the  hoary  trees 

Droop'd  as  the  fhadow  pail'd. 


Miscellaneous.  1 23 


And  as  He  rose  with  all  his  train 

Of  righteous  souls  around, 
His  blefling  fell  into  thine  heart, 

Like  dew  into  the  ground. 

Down  ftoop'd  a  filver  cloud   from   heaven, 

The  Eternal  Spirit's  car, 
And  on  the  lefTening  vifion  went, 

Like  some  receding  ftar. 

The  silver  cloud  hath  sail'd  away, 

The  ikies  are  blue  and  free ; 
The  road  that  vifion  took  is  now 

Sunfhine  and  vacancy. 

The  Feet  which  thou  haft  kiiT'd  so  oft, 
Those  living  Feet,  are  gone  j 

Mother!  thou  canft  but  ftoop  and  kiss 
Their  print  upon  the  ftone. 

Yes !  He  hath  left  thee,  Mother  dear ! 

His  throne  is  far  above  ; 
How  canft  thou  be  so  full  of  joy 

When  thou  haft  loft  thy  Love  ? 

O  surely  earth's  poor  sunfhine  now 
To  thee  mere  gloom  appears, 

When  He  is  gone  who  was  its  light 
For  Three-and-Thirty  Years. 


1 24  Miscellaneous, 


Why  do  not  thy  sweet  hands  detain 

His  Feet  upon  their  way  ? 
O   why  doth   not  the  Mother  speak 

And  bid  her  Son  to  flay  ? 

Ah   no  !   thy  love  is  rightful  love, 

From  all  self-seeking  free  ; 
The  change  that  is  such  gain  to  Him 

Can  be  no  loss  to  thee! 

'Tis  sweet  to  feel  our  Saviour's  love, 

To  feel  his  presence  near  ; 
Yet  loyal  love  his  glory  holds 

A  thousand  times  more  dear. 

Who  would  have  known  the  way  to  love 

Our  Jesus  as  we  ought, 
If  thou  in  varied  joy  and  woe 

Hadft  not  that  leflbn  taught  ? 

Ah !  never  is  our  love  so  pure 

As  when  refined  by  pain, 
Or  when  God's  glory  upon  earth 

Finds  in  our  loss  its  gain  ! 

True  love  is  worfhip  :   Mother  dear ! 

O  gain  for  us  the  light 
To  love,  because  the  creature's  love 

Is  the  Creator's  right  ! 

Faber. 


Miscellaneous)  125 


HYMN    TO   MY   GUARDIAN    ANGEL. 

(For  Children.) 

DEAR   Angel !  ever  at  my  fide, 
How  loving  muft  thou  be 
To  leave  thy  home  in  Heaven  to  guard 
A  little  child  like  me. 

Thy  beautiful  and  mining  face 

I   see  not,  though  so  near ; 
The  sweetness  of  thy  soft  low  voice 

I  am  too  deaf  to  hear. 

I  cannot  feel  thee  touch  my  hand 
With  preiTure  light  and  mild, 

To  check  me,  as  my  mother  did 
When  I  was  but  a  child. 

But  I  have  felt  thee  in  my  thoughts 

Fighting  with   fin   for  me  ; 
And  when  my  heart  loves  God,  I   know 

The  sweetness  is  from  thee. 

And  when,  dear  Spirit!  I  kneel  down 
Morning  and  night  to  prayer, 

Something  there  is  within   my  heart 
Which  tells  me  thou  art  there. 


126  Miscellaneous. 


Yes  !   when   I   pray  thou  prayeft  to 

Thy  prayer  is  all  for  me  ; 
But  when  I   sleep,  thou  sleepeft  not, 

But  watcheft  patiently. 

Ah   me  !   how  lovely  they  muft  be 

Whom   God   has  glorified  ; 
Yet  one  of  them,  O  sweeteft  thought! 

Is  ever  at  my  fide. 

And  thou  in  life's  laft  hour  wilt  bring 

A  frem  supply  of  grace, 
And  afterwards  wilt  let  me  kiss 

Thy  beautiful  bright  face. 

Then  for  thy  sake,  dear  Angel !  now 

More  humble  will  I  be  : 
But  I  am  weak,  and  when   I   fall, 

O  weary  not  for  me  : 

Then  love  me,  love  me,  Angel  dear  ! 

And  I  will  love  thee  more  ; 
And  help'  me  when  my  soul  is  caft 

Upon  the  eternal  fhore. 

Faber. 


Miscellaneous.  1 27 


HYMN    OF   THE    CALABRIAN   SHEPHERDS. 

DARKER  and  darker  fall  around 
The  fhadows   from  the  pine  ; 
It  is  the  hour  with  hymn  and  prayer 
To  gather  round  thy  fhrine. 

Hear  us,  sweet  Mother !  thou  haft  known 

Our  earthly  hopes  and   fears, 
The  bitterness  of  mortal  toil 

The  tenderness  of  tears. 

We  pray  thee  flrft  for  absent  ones, 
Those  who  knelt  with  us  here — 

The  father,  brother,  and  the  son, 
The  diftant  and  the  dear. 

We  pray  thee  for  the  little  bark 

Upon  the  ftormy  sea  ; 
Affection's  anxiousness  of  love, 

Is  it  not  known  to  thee  ? 

The  soldier,  he  who  only  sleeps 

His  head  upon  his  brand, 
Who  only  in  a  dream  can  see 

His  own  beloved  land. 


128  Miscellaneous. 


The  wandering  Minftrel,  he  who  gave 
Thy  hymns   his  earlieft   tone, 

Who  strives  to  teach  a  foreign  tongue 
The  rnufic  of  his  own. 

Kind   Mother,  let  them  see  again 

Their  own  Italian  fhore  j 
Back  to  the  home,  which  wanting  them, 

Seems  like  a  home  no  more. 

Madonna,  keep  the  cold  north  wind 

Amid  his  native  seas, 
So  that  no  withering  blight  come  down 

Upon  our  olive  trees. 

And  bid  the  sunfhine  glad  our  hills, 

The  dew  rejoice  our  vines, 
And  bid  the  healthful  sea-breeze  sweep 

In  mufic  through  the  pines. 

Pray  for  us  that  our  hearts  and  homes 

Be  kept  in  fear  and  love  ; 
Love  for  all  things  around  our  path, 

And  fear  for  those  above. 

Thy  soft  blue  eyes  are  fill'd  with  tears, 

Oh !  let  them  warn  away 
The  soil  of  our  unworthiness  : — 

Pray  for  us5  Mother,  pray! 


Miscellaneous.  1 29 


We   know  how  vain  the  fleeting  flowers 

Around  thine  altar  hung  ; 
We  know  how  humble  is  the  hymn 

Before  thine  image  sung. 

But  wilt  thou  not  accept  the  wreath, 

And  sanctify  the  lay  ; 
We  truft  to  thee  our  hopes  and  fears, — 

Pray  for  us,  Mother,  pray ! 


Stabat  Mater  dolorosa. 

AT  the  Cross  her  ftation  keeping, 
Stood  the  mournful  Mother  weeping, 
Close  to  Jesus  to  the  laft  : 
Through  her  heart,  his  sorrow  fharing, 
All  his  bitter  anguifh  bearing, 

Now  at  length  the  sword  had  pafT'd. 

Oh,  how  sad  and  sore  diftrefPd 
Was  that  Mother  highly  bleft 

Of  the  sole-begotten  One ! 
Chrift  above  in  torment  hangs  ; 
She  beneath  beholds  the  pangs 

Of  her  dying  glorious  Son. 
I 


130 


Miscellaneous. 


Is  there  one  who  would  not  weep, 
Whelm'd  in  miseries  so  deep 

Chrift's  dear  Mother  to  behold? 
Can  the  human  heart  refrain 
From  partaking  in  her  pain, 

In  that  Mother's   pain   untold  ? 

Bruised,  derided,  cursed,  defiled, 
She  beheld  her  tender  Child 

All  with  bloody  scourges  rent ; 
For  the  fins  of  his  own  nation, 
Saw   Him   hang  in  desolation, 

Till  his  Spirit  forth  He  sent. 

O  thou  Mother  !   fount  of  love  ! 
Touch  my  spirit  from  above. 

Make  my  heart  with  thine  accord  : 
Make  me  feel  as  thou  haft  felt ; 
Make  my  soul  to  glow  and  melt 

With  the  love  of  Chrift  my  Lord. 

Breviary, 


(&?J) 


Miscellaneous*  131 


PORTUGUESE    HYMN. 

STAR   of  the  wide  and   pathless   sea, 
Who  loveft  on  mariners  to  mine, 
These  votive  garments  wet,  to  thee 
We   hang,  within  thy  holy  fhrine. 
When  o'er  us  flafh'd  the  surging  brine, 
Amid  the   warring  waters  tofPd, 

From  earthly  aid  we  turn'd   to  thine, 
And  hoped,  when  other  hope   was  loft. 
Ave  Maris  Stella  ! 

Star  of  the  vaft  and  howling  main, 

When  dark  and  lone  is  all  the  fky, 
And   mountain  waves  o'er  ocean's  plain, 

Erecl:  their  ftormy  heads  on  high  ; 

When  matrons  by  the  hearthftone   figh, 
They  raise  their  weeping  eyes  to  thee  ; 

The  ftar  of  ocean  heeds  their  cry, 
And  saves  the  foundering  bark  at  sea. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  dark  and  ftormy  sea, 

When,  wreaking  tempefts  round   us  rave 

Thy  gentle  virgin  form  we  see, 
Bright  rifing  o'er  the   hoary  wave. 


J32 


Miscellaneous. 


The   howling  ftorms  that  seem   to  crave 
Their   victims,   fink  in   mufic   sweet  ; 

The  surging  seas  recede,  to   pave 
The  path  beneath  thy  gliftening  feet. 
Ave  Maris  Stella  ! 


Star  of  the  desert  waters  wild, 

Who,  pitying,  hear'ft  the  seaman's  cry, 
The  Lord  of  Mercy,  as  a  child, 

On   that  chafte  bosom   loved  to  lie  ; 

While  soft  the  chorus  of  the  fky 
Their  hymns  of  tender  mercy  fing, 

And  angel  voices  named  on  high 
The  Mother  of  the  Heavenly  King. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 

Star  of  the  deep  !   at  that  blefr.  name 

The  waves  fleep  filent  round  the  keel, 
The  tempefts  wild  their  fury  tame, 

That  made  the  deep   foundations   reel  ; 

The  soft  celeftial  accents  fteal 
So  soothing  through  the  realms  of  woe, 

That  suffering  souls  a  respite  feel 
From  torture   in  the  depths  below. 
Ave  Maris  Stella! 


Star  of  the  mild  and  placid  seas, 

Whom   rainbow  rays  of  mercy  crown, 

Whose  name  thy   faithful   Portuguese, 
O'er  all  that  to  the  depths  go  down, 


Miscellaneous,  133 


With   hymns  of  grateful  transport  own  ; 
When  gathering  clouds  obscure  their  light, 

And   heaven  aflumes  an  awful   frown, 
The  ftar  of  ocean  glitters  bright. 
Ave  Maris  Stella  ! 

Star  of  the  deep  !   when  angel  lyres 

To  hymn  thy  holy  name  efTay, 
In  vain  a  mortal  harp  aspires 

To   mingle  in  the  mighty  lay  ! 

Mother  of  Chrift !  one  living  ray 
Of  hope  our  grateful  bosoms   fires, 

When  ftorms  and  tempefts  pass  away, 
To  join  the  bright  immortal  choirs. 
Ave  Maris  Stella  ! 


THE   MISSION   OF   THE   HOLY   GHOST. 

NO  track  is  on  the  sunny  iky, 
No  footprints  on  the  air  ; 
Jesus  hath  gone  ;  the  face  of  earth 
Is  desolate  and  bare. 

The  blefTed   feet  of  Mary's   Son, 
They  tread  the  ftreets  no  more  ; 

His  soul-converting  voice  gives  not 
Its  mufic  as  before. 


34  Miscellaneous. 


His  Mother  fits  all  worfhipful 

With   her  majeftic  mien  ; 
The   princes  of  the   infant  Church 

Are  gather'd  round   their  Queen. 

They  gaze  on  her  with  raptured  eyes, 

Her  features  are  like  his, 
Her  presence  is  their  ample  ftrength, 

Her  face  reflects  their  bliss. 

That  Upper  Room  is  heaven  on  earth  ; 

Within  its  precincts  lie 
All  that  earth  has  of  faith,  or  hope, 

Or  heaven-born  charity. 

The  Eye  of  God  looks  down  on  them, 

His  love  is  centred  there  ; 
.His  Spirit  yearns  to  be  o'ercome 

By  their  sweet  ftrife  of  prayer. 

The  Mother  prays  her  mighty  prayer, 

In  accents  meek  and  faint, 
Ana  higheft  heaven  is  quick  to  own 

The  beautiful  conftraint. 

The  Eternal  Son  takes  up  the  prayer 

Upon  his  royal  throne  ; 
The  Son  his  human  Mother  hears, 

The  Sire  his  holy  Son. 

Faber. 


Miscellaneous.  1 3  5 


THOU    ART    OF    ALL    CREATED    THINGS. 

THOU  art  of  all  created  things, 
O  Lord,  the  eflence  and  the  cause — 
The  source  and  centre  of  all  bliss  ; 
What  are  those  veils  of  woven  light, 
Where  sun  and  moon  and  ftars  unite — 
The  purple  morn,  the  spangled  night — 
But  curtains  which  thy  mercy  draws 
Between  the  heavenly  world  and  this  ? 
The  terrors  of  the  sea  and  land — 
When  all  the  elements  conspire, 
The  earth  and  water,  ftorm  and  fire — 
Are  but  the  fketches  of  thy  hand  ; 
Do  they  not  all  in  countless  ways — 
The  lightning's  flafh — the  howling  ftorm — 
The  dread  volcano's  awful  blaze — 
Proclaim  thy  glory  and  thy  praise  ? 
Beneath  the  sunny  summer  mowers 
Thy  love  afTumes  a  milder  form, 
And  writes  its  angel  name  in  flowers  ; 
The  wind  that  flies  with  winged  feet 
Around  the  grafly  gladden'd  earth, 
Seems  but  commiffion'd  to  repeat 
In  echo's  accents — filvery  sweet — 


,36 


Miscellaneous. 


That  Thou,  O  Lord,  didft  give  it  birth. 
There  is  a  tongue  in  every  flame — 
There  is  a  tongue  in  every  wave — 
To  these  the  bounteous  Godhead  gave 
These  organs  but  to  praise  his  name  ! 


Lyra   Germamca.  139 


LYRA  GERMANICA, 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  ADVENT. 

The  night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is  at  hand ;  let  us  therefore  cast  off 
the  works  of  darkness,  and  put  on  the  armor  of  light. 

From  the  Epistle. 

O  WATCHMAN  will  the  night  of  fin 
Be  never  paft  ? 
O  watchman,  doth  the  day  begin 
To  dawn  upon  thy  {training  fight  at  laft  ? 

Will  it  dispel 
Ere  long  the  mifts  of  sense  wherein  I  dwell  ? 

Now  all  the  earth  is  bright  and  glad 

With  the  frefh  morn  ; 
But  all  my  heart  is  cold,  and  dark,  and  sad  ; 
Sun  of  the  soul,  let  me  behold  thy  dawn  ! 

Come  Jesus,  Lord  ! 
Oh,  quickly  come,  according  to  thy  word  ! 


140  Lyra   Germanica. 


Do  we  not  live  in   those  blefl:  days 

So  long  foretold, 
When  Thou  fhouldft  come  to  bring  us  light  and  grace  ? 
And  yet  I   fit  in  darkness  as  of  old, 

Pining  to  see 
Thy  glory  ;   but  Thou   ftill  art  far  from    me. 

Long  fince  Thou  cam'ft  to  be  the  light 

Of  all   men   here  ; 
And  yet  in  me  is  nought  but  blacked  night. 
Wilt  Thou  not  then  to  me,  thine  own,  appear  ? 

Shine  forth  and  bless 
My  soul  with  vifion  of  thy  righteousness  ! 

If  thus  in  darkness  ever  left, 

Can  I  fulfil 
The  works  of  light,  while  of  all  light  bereft  ? 
How  fhall  I  learn  in  love  and  meekness  ftill 

To  follow  Thee, 
And  all  the  finful  works  of  darkness  flee  ? 

The  light  of  reason  cannot  give 

Life  to   my  soul  ; 
Jesus  alone  can  make  me  truly  live, 
One  glance  of  his  can  make  my  spirit  whole. 

Arise,  and  mine 
On  this  poor  longing,  waiting  heart  of  mine  ! 

Single  and  clear,  not  weak  or  blind, 
The  eye  mufr.  be, 


Lyra   German'ica.  141 


To  which  thy  glory  (hall  an  entrance   find  ; 
Y  or  if  thy  chosen  ones  would  gaze  on   Thee, 

No  earthly  screen 
Between  their  souls  and  Thee  mutt  intervene. 

Jesus,  do  Thou  mine  eyes   unseal, 

And  let  them  grow 
Quick  to  discern   whate'er  Thou  doft  reveal, 
So  mall  I  be  deliver'd  from  that  woe, 

Blindly  to  ftray 
Through  hopeless  night,  while  all  around  is  day. 

Richter,   17C4.. 


FOURTH   SUNDAY   IN    ADVENT. 

Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway,  and  again  I  say  unto  you, 
Rejoice     .     .     .     The  Lord  is  at  hand. 

From  the  Epistle. 

IFT  up  your  heads,  ye  mighty  gates, 
-■— '   Behold  the  King  of  glory  waits, 

The  King  of  kings  is  drawing  near, 

The  Saviour  of  the  world  is  here  ; 
Life  and  salvation  doth   He  bring, 
Wherefore  rejoice,  and  gladly  fing 

Praise,   O   my  God,  to  Thee  ! 

Creator,  wise  is  thy  decree  ! 


lJul  Lyra   Germanic  a. 


The  Lord   is  jufr,  a  helper  tried, 

Mercy  is  ever  at   his   fide, 

His  Kingly  crown  is  holiness, 

His  sceptre,   pity  in   diftress, 
The  end  of  all  our  woe   He  brings  ; 
Wherefore  the  earth  is  glad  and  fings 

Praise,   O   my  God,   to  Thee  ! 

O   Saviour,  great  thy  deeds  fhall  be  ! 

O  bleft  the  land,  the  city  bleft, 

Where  Chrift  the  Ruler  is  confeft  ! 
O  happy  hearts,  and  happy  homes, 
To  whom  this  King  in  triumph  comes  ! 
The  cloudless  Sun  of  joy   He  is, 
Who  bringeth   pure  delight  and  bliss  ; 
Praise,  O   my   God,  to  thee  ! 
Comforter,  for  thy  comfort  free  ! 

Fling  wide  the  portals  of  your  heart, 
Make  it  a  temple,  set  apart 
From  earthly  use  for  Heaven's  employ, 
Adorn'd  with  prayer,  and  love,  and  joy  ; 

So  fhall  your  Sovereign  enter  in, 

And  new  and  nobler  life  begin. 
Praise,   O   my  God,  be  thine, 
For  word,  and  deed,  and  grace  divine. 

Redeemer,  come!     I  open  wide 

My  heart  to  Thee  ;   here,  Lord,  abide ! 
Let  me  thy  inner  presence  feel, 


Lyra  Germanlca.  J  43 


Thy  grace  and  love  in  me  reveal, 

Thy   Holy  Spirit  guide   us  on 

Until  our  glorious  goal  be  won ! 
Eternal   praise  and   fame, 
Be  offer'd,   Saviour,  to  thy  name  ! 

IVeiszeL      1635, 


ST.  STEPHEN'S   DAY. 

I  have  seen,  I   have  seen  the  afflictions  of  my  people. 

From  the  Lesson. 

FEAR  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 
Who  madlv  seek  your  overthrow, 
Dread  not  his  rage  and  power. 
What  though  your  courage  sometimes   faints, 
His  seeming  triumph  o'er  God's  saints 
Lafts  but  a  little  hour. 

Be  of  good  cheer  ;  your  cause  belongs 
To  Him  who  can  avenge  your  wrongs 

Leave  it  to  Him,  our  Lord. 
Though  hidden  yet  from  all  our  eyes, 
He  sees  the  Gideon  who  mall  rise 

To  save  us,  and  his  word. 


144  Lyra   Germanic  a. 


As  true  as  God's  own  word   is  true, 
Not  earth  or  hell  with  all  their  crew 

Againft  us  fhall  prevail. 
A  jeft  and  byword  are  they  grown  ; 
God  is  with  us,  we  are  his  own, 

Our  victory  cannot  fail. 

Amen,  Lord  Jesus,  grant  our  prayer  : 
Great  Captain,  now  thine  arm   make  bare  ; 

Fight  for  us  once  again  ! 
So  fhall  the  saints  and  martyrs  raise 
A  mighty  chorus  to  thy  praise, 

World  without  end.     Amen. 

Altenburg. 

Gu/iavus  Adolphus's  Battle-Song.      1 631. 


Lyra  Germanica,  145 


L_ 


INNOCENTS'    DAY. 

Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall 
not  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  Matt.    18:   3. 

DEAR  Soul,  couldft  thou  become  a  child 
While  yet  on   earth,  meek,   undefiled, 
Then  God  himself  were  ever  near, 
And  Paradise  around  thee  here. 

A  child  cares  nought   for  gold  or  treasure, 
Nor  fame  nor  glory  yield   him  pleasure  ; 
In  perfect  truft,  he  aslceth  not 
If  rich  or  poor  mall  be  his  lot. 

Little  he  recks  of  dignity 
Nor  prince  nor  monarch   feareth   he  ; 
Strange  that  a  child  so  weak  and  small 
Is  oft  the  boldefl:  of  us  all ! 

He  hath  not  fkill  to  utter  lies, 
His  very  soul  is  in  his  eyes  ; 
Single  his  aim   in  all,   and  true, 
And  apt  to   praise  what  others  do. 

No  quesftions  dark  his  spirit  vex, 
No  faithless  doubts  his  soul  perplex, 
Simply  from  day  to  day  he  lives, 
Content  with  what  the  present  gives. 
J 


146  Lyra   German  tea. 

Scarce  can   he   (land  alone,   far  less 
Would  roam  abroad   in   loneliness  ; 
Faft  clinging  to  his  mother   Mill 
She  bears  and  leads  him  at  her  will. 

He  will  not  flay  to  pause  and   choose, 
His   father's  guidance  e'er  refuse, 
Thinks  not  of  danger,   fears  no  harm, 
Wrapt  in  obedience'  holy  calm. 

For  ftrange  concerns  he  careth  nought  ; 
What  others  do,  although  were  wrought 
Before  his  eyes  the  worft  offence, 
Stains  not  his  tranquil  innocence. 

His  deareft  work,  his  beft  delight, 
Is,  lying  in  his  mother's  fight, 
To  gaze  forever  on  her  face, 
And  neftle  in  her  fond  embrace. 

O  childhood's  innocence!  The  voice 
Of  thy  deep  wisdom  is  my  choice  ! 
Who  hath  thy  love  is  truly  wise 
And  precious  in  our  Father's  eyes. 

Spirit  of  childhood  !  loved  of  God, 
Bv  Jesus'  spirit  now  beftowed  ; 
How  often  have  I  long'd  for  thee  ; 
O  Jesus,  form  thyself  in  me  ! 


Lyra  Germanic  a.  147 

And  help  me  to  become  a  child 
While  yet  on  earth,   meek,   undefiled, 
That  I   may   find  God  always  near, 
And  Paradise  around  me  here. 

Gerhardt   Terjleegen.      1 73 1. 


THE   CIRCUMCISION    OF   CHRIST. 

Hymn  for  Neiv  Year's  Day. 

So  teach  us  to   number  our  days  that  we  may  apply  our   hearts 
unto  wisdom.  Psalm  90:   12. 

ETERNITY  '   Eternity  ! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 
And  yet  to  thee  Time  haftes  away, 
Like  as  the  war-horse  to  the  fray, 
Or  swift  as  couriers  homeward  go, 
Or  fhip  to  port,  or  fhaft  from  bow. 
Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity !  Eternity ! 
How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 
For  even  as  on  a  perfect  sphere 
End  nor  beginning  can  appear, 


4  8  Ly  ra    Germ  a  n  tea, 


Even  so,  Eternity,  in  thee 
Entrance  nor  exit  can  there  be. 
Ponder,   O   man,   Eternity ! 

Eternity  !   Eternity! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 

A   circle  infinite  art  thou, 

Thy  centre  an  Eternal  Now, 

Never,  we  name  thy  outward  bound, 

For  never  end  therein  is  found. 

Ponder,  O   man,  Eternity ! 

Eternity  !   Eternity  ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 

A  little  bird   with   fretting  beak 

Might  wear  to  nought  the  loftieft  peak, 

Though  but  each  thousand  years  it  came, 

Yet  thou  wert  then,  as  now,  the  same. 

Ponder,  O   man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity  !   Eternity ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity  ! 

As  long  as  God  is  God,  so  long 

Endure  the  pains  of  hell  and  wrong, 

So  long  the  joys  of  heaven  remain  ; 

Oh  lading  joy,   Oh   lading  pain  ! 

Ponder,  O   man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity!  Eternity  ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 


Lyra  Germanica.  149 


They  who  lived  poor  and  naked,  reft 
With   God   for  ever  rich  and  bleft, 
And   love  and   praise  the  higheft  good, 
In  perfect  bliss  and  gladsome  mood. 
Ponder,   O   man,  Eternity! 

Eternity  !   Eternity ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Who  ponders  oft  on  thee  is  wise, 

All  fleshly  lufts  mail  he  despise, 

The  world   finds  place  with  him  no  more; 

The  love  of  vain  delights  is  o'er. 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity !  Eternity ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity ! 

Who  marks  thee  well  would  say  to  God, 

Here,  judge,  burn,   smite   me  with  thy  rod, 

Here,  let  me  all  thy  juftice  bear, 

When  time  of  grace  is  paft,  then  spare  ! 

Ponder,  O  man,  Eternity  ! 

Eternity !  Eternity  ! 

How  long  art  thou,  Eternity! 

Lo,  I,  Eternity,  warn  thee, 

O   man,  that  oft  thou  think  on  me, 

The  sinner's   punifhment  and  pain, 

To  them  who  love  their  God,  rich  gain  ! 

Ponder,   O   man,   Eternity  ! 

Wulffer.      164 


150 


Lyra  GermanUa, 


SECOND    SUNDAY   AFTER    EPIPHANY. 

Lift  up  your  eyes  unto  the  heavens,  and  look  upon  the  earth  be- 
neath ;  for  the  heavens  shall  vanish  away  like  smoke,  and  the  earth 
shall  wax  old  like  a  garment,  and  the  people  that  dwell  therein  shall 
die  in  like  manner;  but  my  salvation  shall  be  for  ever,  and  my 
righteousness  shall  not  be  abolished. 

From  the  Lesson. 


OD  liveth  ever  ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Our  God  is  good,  in  every  place 

His  love  is  known,  his  help  is  found, 
His  mighty  arm,  and  tender  grace 

Bring  good   from  ills  that  hem  us  round. 
Eafier  than  we  think  can   He 
Turn  to  joy  our  agony. 
Soul,  remember  'mid  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 


God  liveth  ever  ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Say,  mall  He  {lumber,  fhall   He  fleep, 

Who  gave  the  eye  its  power  to  see  ? 
Shall   He  not  hear  his  children  weep 

Who  made  the  ear  so  wondrouily  ? 
God   is   God  ;   He  sees  and   hears 
All  their  troubles,  all  their  tears. 


Lyra  Germanica. 


'5' 


Soul,    forget   not   'mid   thy   pains, 
God  o'er  all   for  ever  reigns. 

God   liveth   ever  ! 

Wherefore,   Soul,  despair  thou  never  ! 
He  who  can  earth  and   heaven  control, 

Who  spreads  the  clouds  o'er  sea  and  land, 
Whose  presence  fills  the  mighty  Whole 

In  each  true  heart  is  close  at  hand. 
Love   Him,   He  will  surely  send 
Help  and  joy  that  never  end. 
Soul,  remember  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth   ever  ! 

Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never. 
Scarce  canft  thou  bear  thy  cross?     Then   fly 

To  Him  where  only  reft  is  sweet ; 
Thy  God  is  great,  his  mercy  nigh 

His   ftrength   upholds  the  tottering  feet. 
Truft   Him,  for  his  grace  is  sure, 
Ever  doth   his  truth  endure  ; 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 


God  liveth  ever ! 

O   my  Soul,  despair  thou  never  ! 
When   fins  and   follies  long  forgot 

Upon  thy  tortured  conscience  prey, 
O   come  to  God,  and  fear  Him  not, 


52  Lyra  G 


crmanica. 


His  love  fhall  sweep  them  all  away. 
Pains  of  hell  at  look  of  his, 
Change  to  calm   content  and  bliss. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pain, 
God  o'er  all  doth   ever  reign. 

God  liveth   ever  ! 

Wherefore,   Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Those  whom  the  thoughtless  world  forsakes, 

Who  fland  bewilder'd  with  their  woe, 
God  gently  to  his  bosom  takes, 

And  bids  them  all  his  fulness  know. 
In  thy  sorrows'   swelling  flood 
Own  his  hand  who  seeks  thy  good. 
Soul,   forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever ! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou  never! 
Let  earth  and  heaven  outworn  with  age, 

Sink  to  the  chaos  whence  they  came  \ 
Let  angry  foes  againft  us  rage, 

Let  hell  fhoot  forth  his  fierceft  flame  ; 
Fear  not  Death,  nor  Satan's  thrufts, 
God  defends  who  in   Him  trufts  ; 
Soul,  remember  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

God  liveth  ever! 
Wherefore,  Soul,  despair  thou,  never  ! 


Lyra   Ger manna.  153 

What  though  thou  tread  with  bleeding  feet 

A  thorny  path  of  grief  and  gloom, 
Thy  God  will  choose  the  way  moft   meet 

To  lead  thee  heavenwards,  lead  thee  home. 
For  this  life's  long  night  of  sadness 
He   will  give  thee  peace  and  gladness. 
Soul,  forget  not  in  thy  pains, 
God  o'er  all  for  ever  reigns. 

Zihn.      1682. 


THIRD   SUNDAY   AFTER   EPIPHANY. 

For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from  heaven ;  and 
returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring 
forth  and  bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to 
the  eater  :  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth  : 
it  shall  not  return  unto  me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which 
I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it. 

From  the  Lesson. 

THY  Word,  O  Lord,  like  gentle  dews, 
Falls  soft  on  hearts  that  pine  j 
Lord,  to  thy  garden  ne'er  refuse 
This  heavenly  balm  of  thine. 
Water'd  from  Thee 
Let  every  tree 
Bud  forth  and  bloflbm  to  thy  praise, 
And  bear  much  fruit  in  after  days. 


1  54  Lyra  Germanica. 


Thy   Word   is  like  a  flaming  sword, 

A  wedge  that  cleaveth  ftone  ; 
Keen  as  a  fire  so  burns  thy  Word 
And   pierceth   flefh  and  bone. 
Let  it  go  forth 
O'er  ail  the  earth 
To  purify  all  hearts  within 
And  matter  all  the  might  of  sin. 

Thy  Word  a  wondrous  guiding  ftar, 

On   pilgrim   hearts   doth   rise, 

Leads  to  their   Lord  who  dwell  afar, 

And  makes  the  fimple  wise. 

Let  not  its  light 

E'er  fink  in  night, 

But  ftill  in  every  spirit  mine, 

That  none   may   miss  thy  light  divine. 


<m 


An 


on. 


Lyra   Germanic  a.  155 


QUINQUAGESIMA    SUNDAY. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Receive  thy  sight,  thy  faith  hath 
saved  thee  :  and  immediately  he  received  his  sight,  and  followed 
him,  glorifving  God.  From  the  Gospel. 

MY   Saviour,  what  Thou  didft  of  old 
When  Thou  waft  dwelling  here, 
Thou  doeft  yet  for  them,  who,  bold 

In  faith,  to  Thee  draw  near. 
As  Thou   hadft  pity  on  the  blind, 

According  to  thy  Word, 
Thou  sufferedft  me  thy  grace  to  find, 
Thy  Light  haft  on   me  pour'd. 


Mourning  I  sat  befide  the  way, 

In  fightless  gloom  apart, 
And  sadness  heavy  on  me  lay, 

And  longing  gnaw'd  my  heart  ; 
I  heard  the  mufic  of  the  psalms 

Thy  people  sang  to  Thee, 
I   felt  the  waving  of  their  palms, 

And  yet  I   could   not  see. 

My  pain  grew  more  than  I   could  bear, 
Too  keen  my  grief  became, 

Then  I  took  heart  in  my  despair 
To  call  upon   thy  name  ; 

"O   Son  of  David,  save  and  heal, 
As  Thou  so  oft  haft  done  ! 


156  Lyra   Germanica. 

O   deareft  Jesus,  let  me   feel 

My  load  of  darkness  gone." 


And  ever  weeping  as  I  spoke 

With  bitter  prayers  and  fighs, 
My  ftony  heart  grew  soft  and  broke, 

More  earneft  yet  my  cries. 
A  sudden  answer  ftill'd  my  fear, 

For  it  was  said  to   me, 
"  O  poor  blind  man,  be  of  good  cheer, 

Rejoice,  He  calleth  thee.', 

I  felt,  Lord,  that  Thou  flooded  (till, 

Groping  thy   feet  I   sought, 
From  off  me  fell  my  old  self-will, 

A  change  came  o'er  my  thought. 
Thou  saidft,  "  What  is  it  Thou  wouldfl:  have  ?  " 

"  Lord,  that  I   might  have  fight ; 
To  see  thy  countenance  I  crave  :  " 

"  So  be  it,  have  thou  Light." 

And  words  of  thine  can  never  fail, 

My  fears  are  part  and  o'er ; 
My  soul  is  glad  with  light,  the  veil 

Is  on  my  heart  no  more. 
Thou  bleflefr  me,  and  forth  I   fare 

Free  from  my  old  disgrace, 
And  follow  on  with  joy  where'er 

Thy  footfteps,   Lord,   I   trace. 

De  La  Motte  Fouque. 


Lyra  Germanica.  157 


SECOND   SUNDAY    IN   LENT. 

And  the  disciples  said,  Send  her  away,  for  she  crieth  after  us  ; 
....  But  he  said,  Great  is  thy  faith,  be  it  unto  thee  even  as 
thou  wilt.  From  the  Gospel. 

I    WILL    not    let    Thee    go  ;    Thou   Help    in    time    of 
need  ! 
Heap  ill  on   ill 
I  truft  Thee   ftill, 
E'en   when   it  seems  as  Thou  wouldfr.   flay  indeed ! 
Do  as  Thou  wilt  with  me, 
I  yet  will  cling  to  Thee, 
Hide  Thou  thy  face,  yet,  Help  in  time  of  need, 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ;  mould  I  forsake  my  bliss  ? 

No,  Lord,  thou'rt  mine, 

And   I   am  thine, 
Thee  will  I  hold  when  all  things  else  I  miss. 

Though  dark  and  sad   the  night, 

Joy  cometh  with  thy  light, 

0  Thou  my   Sun  ;  fhould  I   forsake   my  bliss  ? 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

1  will   not  let  Thee  go,  my  God,  my  Life,   my  Lord ! 

Not  Death  can  tear 
Me  from  his  care, 
Who  for  my  sake  his  soul  in  death  outpour'd. 


'5» 


Lyra   Germanha. 


Thou  diedft  for  love  to  me, 
I   say  in  love  to  Thee, 
E'en   when   my   heart  fhall   break,   my  God,   my  Life,   my 
Lord, 
I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

Deszler.      1 69  2. 


THIRD    SUNDAY   AFTER    EASTER. 

And  ye  now  therefore  have  sorrow;  but  I  will  see  you  again, 
and  your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from 
you.  From  the  Gospel. 

COMETH  sunfhine  after  rain, 
After  mourning  joy  again, 
After  heavy  bitter  grief 
Dawneth  surely  sweet  relief; 

And  my  soul,  who  from  her  height 
Sank  to  realms  of  woe  and  night, 
Wingeth  now  to  heaven   her  flight. 


He,  whom  this  world  dares  not  face, 
Hath  refrefh'd  me  with   his  grace, 
And   his   mighty  hand   unbound 
Chains  of  hell  about  me   wound  ; 


Lyra  Germanica, 

Quicker,  ftronger,  leaps   my  blood, 
Since  his   mercy,  like  a  flood, 
Pour'd  o'er  all  my  heart  for  good. 

Bitter  anguifh  have  I   borne 
Keen  regret  my   heart  hath  torn, 
Sorrow  dimm'd  my  weeping  eyes, 
Satan  blinded   me  with  lies  ; 

Yet  at  laft  am  I   set  free, 
Help,  protection,  love,  to  me 
Once  more  true  companions  be. 

Ne'er  was  left  a  helpless  prey, 
Ne'er  with  fhame  was  turn'd  away, 
He   who  gave   himself  to  God, 
And  on   Him  had  caft  a  load. 

Who  in  God  his  hope  hath   placed 
Shall  not  life  in  pain  outwafte, 
Fulleft  joy  he  yet  fhall  tafte. 

Though  to-day  may  not  fulfil 

All  thy  hopes,  have  patience  still  ; 

For  perchance  to-morrow's  sun 

Sees  thy  happier  days  begun. 

As  God  willeth  march  the  hours, 
Bringing  joy  at  laft  in  mowers, 
And  whate'er  we  afked  is  ours. 


159 


When  my  heart  was  vex'd  with  care, 
Fill'd  with   fears,  well-nigh  despair  ; 


60  Lyra   Germanica. 


W  hen   with   watching  many  a   night 

On   me  fell  pale  fickness'  blight  ; 

When   my  courage   fail'd   me   fall:, 
Cameft  Thou,   my  God,  at  laft, 
And  my  woes  were  quickly  pad. 

Now  as  long  as  here  I  roam, 
On  this  earth  have  house  and  home, 
Shall  this   wondrous  gleam   from   Thee 
Shine  through  all  my  memory. 

To  my  God   I  yet  will  cling, 

All  my  life  the  praises  fing 

That  from  thankful  hearts  outspring. 

Every  sorrow,  every  smart, 

That  the  Eternal  Father's  heart 

Hath  appointed  me  of  yore, 

Or  hath  yet  for  me  in  ftore, 

As  my  life  flows  on  I'll  take 

Calmly,  gladly  for  his  sake, 

No  more  faithless  murmurs  make. 

I  will  meet  diftress  and  pain, 

I  will  greet  e'en  death's  dark  reign, 

I  will  lay  me  in  the  grave, 

With  a  heart  ftill  glad  and  brave. 

Whom  the  Stronger!:  doth  defend, 
Whom  the  Higheft  counts  his  friend, 
Cannot  perifh  in  the  end. 

Paul  Gerhardt.      1659. 


Lyra    Gcrmanica.  I  6  I 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  EASTER. 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away,  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the 
Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you. 

From  the  Gospel. 

OHOLY  Ghoft  !  Thou  fire  Divine  ! 
From  higheft  heaven  on  us  down  mine  ; 
Comforter,  be  thy  comfort  mine  ! 

Come,  Father  of  the  poor,  to  earth  ; 
Come  with  thy  gifts  of  precious  worth  ; 
Come,  Light  of  all  of  mortal  birth  ! 

Thou  rich  in  comfort!    Ever  bleft 

The  heart  where  Thou  art  conftant  gueft, 

Who  giv'ft  the  heavy-laden  reft. 

Come,  Thou  in  whom  our  toil  is  sweet, 
Our  fhadow  in  the  noon-day  heat, 
Before  whom  mourning  flieth  fleet. 

Bright  Sun  of  Grace  !  Thy  sunfhine  dart 
On  all  who  cry  to  Thee  apart, 
And  fill  with  gladness  every  heart. 
K 


1 62  Lyra   Germanica. 


Whate'er  without  thy  aid  is  wrought, 
Or  fkilful  deed  or  wiseft  thought, 
God  counts  it  vain  and  merely  nought. 

O  cleanse  us  that  we  fin  no  more, 
O'er  parched  souls  thy  waters  pour  ; 
Heal  the  sad  heart  that  acheth  sore. 

Thy  will  be  ours  in  all  our  ways  ; 
O  melt  the  frozen  with  thy  rays  ; 
Call  home  the  loft  in  error's  maze. 

And  grant  us,  Lord,  who  cry  to  Thee, 
And  hold  the  faith  in  unity, 
Thy  precious  gifts  of  charity  ; 

That  we  may  live  in  holiness, 
And  find  in  death  our  happiness, 
And  dwell  with  Thee  in  lafting  bliss. 

King  Robert  of  France  about  A.   D.    iooo. 


tyra 


Germanica.  163 


TRINITY   SUNDAY. 

And  God  said,  Let  u?  make  man  in  our  image. 

From  the  Lesson. 

MOST  High  and   Holy  Trinity! 
Who  of  thy  mercy  mild 
Haft  form'd  me  here  in  time,  to  be 

Thy  image  and  thy  child  : 
Oh  let  me  love  Thee  day  and  night 
With  all  my  soul,  with  all  my  might  ; 
Oh  come,  thyself  my  soul  prepare, 
And  make  thy  dwelling  ever  there  ! 

Father!  replenifh  with  thy  grace 

This  longing  heart  of  mine, 
Make  it  thy  quiet  dwelling-place, 

Thy  sacred  inmoft  fhrine ! 
Forgive  that  oft  my  spirit  wears 
Her  time  and  ftrength  in  trivial  cares, 
Enfold  her  in  thy  changeless  peace, 
So  fhe  from  all  but  Thee  may  cease  ! 

O  God  the  Son  !  thy  wisdom's  light 

On  my  dark  reason  pour  ; 
Forgive  that  things  of  sense  and  fight, 

Were  all  her  joy  of  yore  ; 


164  Lyra  German  tea. 


Henceforth  let  every  thought  and  deed 
On  Thee  be  fix'd,  from  Thee  proceed, 
Draw   me  to  Thee,  for  I  would  rise 
Above  these  earthly   vanities  ! 

O,  Holy  Ghoft!     Thou  fire  of  love, 
Enkindle  with  thy  flame  my  will  ; 

Come,  with   thy  ftrength,  Lord,   from   above, 
Help  me  thy  bidding  to  fulfil  : 

Forgive  that  I  so  oft  have  done 

What  I   as   finful  ought  to  fhun  ; 

Let  me  with   pure  and  quenchless  fire 

Thy  favor  and  thyself  defire  ! 

Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity ! 

Draw  me  away  far  hence, 
And  fix  upon  eternity 

All  powers  of  soul  and  sense! 
Make  me  at  one  within  ;    at  one 
With  Thee  on  earth  j    when  life  is  done 
Take  me  to  dwell  in  light  with  Thee, 
Moft  High  and  Holy  Trinity! 

Angelus.      165' 


<^*?S) 


Lyra    Ge 


T  ma  )iic  a. 


I65 


THIRD  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Cast  all  your  care  upon  Him,  for  He  careth  for  you. 

From  the  Epistle. 

p°D  !     Thou  art  my  Rock  of  ftrength, 
^J    And  my  home  is  in  thine  arms, 
Thou  wilt  send  me  help  at  length, 

And  I   feel  no  wild  alarms. 
Sin  nor  Death  can  pierce  the  mield 

Thy  defence  has  o'er  me  thrown, 
Up  to  Thee  myself  I  yield, 

And  my  sorrows  are  thine  own. 

On  Thee,  O  my  God,  I  reft, 

Letting  life  float  calmly  on, 
For  I  know  the  laft  is  beft, 

When  the  crown  of  joy  is  won.    . 
In  thy  might  all  things  I  bear, 

In  thy  love  find  bitters  sweet, 
And  with  all  my  grief  and  care 

Sit  in  patience  at  thy  feet. 

O,   my  soul,  why  art  thou  vex'd  ? 

Let  things  go  e'en  as  they  will; 
Though  to  thee  they  seem  perplex'd 

Yet  his  order  they  fulfil. 
Here   He  is  thy  ftrength  and  guard, 

Power  to  harm  thee  here  has  none  ; 


j  55  Lyra    Germanica. 


Yonder  will   He  each   reward 

For  the  works  he   here  has  done. 

Let  thy  mercy's  wings  be  spread 

O'er  me,  keep  me  close  to  Thee, 
In  the  peace  thy  love  doth   fhed, 

Let  me  dwell  eternally. 
Be  my  All  ;    in  all  I  do 

Let  me  only  seek  thy  will, 
Where  the  heart  to  Thee  is  true, 

All  is  peaceful,  calm,  and   still. 

A.  H.  Francke.      1663-1727 


NINTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

How  long  halt  ye  between  two  opinions  ?     If  the  Lord  be  God, 

follow  him  ;  but  if  Baal,  then  follow  him. 

From  the  Lesson. 

WHY  halted  thus,  deluded  heart, 
Why  wavereft  longer  in  thy  choice  ? 
Is  it  so  hard  to  choose  the  part 

Offer'd  by  Heaven's  entreating  voice? 
Oh  look  with  clearer  eyes  again, 
Nor  ftrive  to  enter  in,  in  vain. 
Press  on  ! 

Remember,  'tis  not  Caesar's  throne, 

Nor  earthly  honor,  wealth,  or  might, 


Lyra  G 


crmanica. 


Whereby  God's   favor  (hall  be  fhown 

To  him  who  conquers  in  this   fight 
Himself  and  an  eternity 
Of  bliss  and  reft   He  offers  thee. 


Press 


on 


i67 


Then  break  the  rotten  bonds  awav, 

That  hinder  you  your  race  to  run, 

That  make  you  linger  oft  and   ftay  ; 
Oh,  be  your  course  afrefh  begun  ! 

Let  no  false  reft  your  soul  deceive, 

Up  !    'tis  a  Heaven  ye  muft  achieve  ! 

Press  on! 

Omnipotence  is  on  your  fide, 

And  wisdom  watches  o'er  your  heads, 
And  God  himself  will  be  your  guide 

So  ye  but  follow  where   He  leads  ; 
How  many  guided  by  his  hand, 
Have  reach'd  ere  now  their  native  land. 

Press  on  ! 

Let  not  the  body  dull  the  soul, 

Its  weakness,  fears,  and  floth  despise  ; 
Man  toils  and  roams  from  pole  to  pole 

To  gain  some  earthly  fleeting  prize, 
The  higheft  good  he  little  cares 
To  win,  or  ftriving  soon  despairs. 
Press  on  ! 


1 68  Lyra  Germanlca. 


Oh,   help  each  other,   haften   on, 

Behold  the  goal  is  nigh  at  hand  ; 
Soon  {hall  the  battle-field  be  won, 

Soon  fhall  your  King  before  you   (land  ! 
To  calmeft  reft   He  leads  you  now, 
And  sets  his  crown  upon  your  brow. 

Press  on  ! 

Lehr.      1733. 


ELEVENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

In  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy  ;    at    thy  right    hand    there    are 
pleasures  for  evermore.  Psalm   16:    12. 

O   FRIEND  of  souls,  how  well  is  me 
Whene'er  thy  love  my  spirit  calms  ! 
From  sorrow's  dungeon  forth  I  flee 

And   hide  me  in  thy  fhelt'ring  arms. 
The  night  of  weeping  flies  away 
Before  the  heat-reviving  ray 

Of  love,  that  beams   from  out  thy  breaft  ; 
Here  is   my  heaven  on   earth   begun  ; 
Who  were  not  joyful  had  he  won 

In  Thee,  O  God,  his   joy  and  reft  ! 

The  world  may  call  herself  my  foe, 
So  be  it  ;    for  I  truft  her  not, 


Lyra  Germanica.  169 


E'en   though  a  friendly  face  (he  (how, 

And   heap  with   her  good  things  my  lot. 

In  Thee  alone  will   I   rejoice, 

Thou  art  the  Friend,  Lord,  of  my  choice, 

For  Thou  art  true  when  friendmips  fail  ; 

'Mid  ftorms  of  woe  thy  truth  is  ftill 

My  anchor  ;    hate  me  as  it  will, 

The  world  mall  o'er  me  ne'er  prevail. 

Through  deserts  of  the  cross  Thou  leaded, 

I   follow  leaning  on  thy  hand  ; 
From  out  the  clouds  thy  child   Thou  feedeft, 

And  giv'ft  him  water  from  the  sand. 
I  know  thy  wondrous  ways  will  end 
In  love  and  blefling,  Thou  true  Friend, 

Enough  if  Thou  art  ever  near! 
I   know,  whom  Thou  wilt  glorify, 
And  raise  o'er  sun  and  ftars  on  high, 

Thou  lead'ft  through  depths  and  darkness  here. 

Deszler.      1 692. 


170  Lyra   Germanica. 


THIRTEENTH  SUNDAY  AFTER  TRINITY. 

Then  Hezekiah  received  the  letter  at  the  hands  of  the  messenger, 
and  read  it,  and  Hezekiah  went  up  into  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and 
spread  it  before  the  Lord.  From  the  Lesson. 

LEAVE   God  to  order  all  thy   ways, 
And  hope  in  Him  whate'er  betide, 
Thou'lt  find  Him  in  the  evil   days 

Thy  all-sufficient  ftrength   and  guide  ; 
Who  trufts  in  God's  unchanging  love, 
Builds  on  the  rock  that  nought  can  move. 

What  can  these  anxious  cares  avail 

These  never-ceafing  moans  and  fighs  ? 

What  can  it  help  us  to  bewail 

Each  painful  moment  as  it  flies? 

Our  cross  and  trials  do  but  press 

The  heavier  for  our  bitterness. 

Only  thy  reftless  heart  keep  ftill, 

And  wait  in  cheerful   hope  ;    content 

To  take  whate'er  his  gracious  will, 
His  all-discerning  love   hath   sent. 

Doubt  not  our  inmofl  wants  are  known 

To  Him  who  chose  us  for  his  own. 


Lyra   Germanica. 


171 


He  knows  when  joyful  hours  are  bed, 
He  sends  them  as   He  sees  it  meet  ; 

When  thou  haft  borne  the  fiery  teft, 
And  art  made  free  from  all  deceit, 

He  comes  to  thee  all  unaware 

And  makes  thee  own  his  loving  care. 

Nor  in  the  heat  of  pain  and   ftrife, 

Think  God  hath  caft  thee  off  unheard, 

And  that  the  man,  whose  prosperous  life 
Thou  envieft,  is  of  Him  preferr'd. 

Time  pafles  and  much  change  doth  bring, 

And  sets  a  bound  to  every  thing. 

All  are  alike  before  his  face  ; 

'Tis  easy  to  our  God  moft  High 
To  make  the  rich  man  poor  and  base, 

To  give  the  poor  man  wealth  and  joy. 
True  wonders  ftill  by  Him  are  wrought, 
Who  setteth  up,  and  brings  to  nought. 

Sing,  pray,  and  swerve  not  from  his  ways, 
But  do  thine  own  part  faithfully, 

Truft  his  rich  promises  of  grace 

So  fhall  they  be  fulfill'd  in  thee  ; 

God  never  yet  forsook  at  need 

The  soul  that  trufted  Him  indeed. 

Neumarck.      1653. 


172  Lyra   Germanica. 


MORNING  HYMN. 

COME,   my  soul,  awake,  'tis   morning, 
Day  is  dawning 
O'er  the  earth,  arise  and  pray  ; 
Come,  to  Him  who  made  this  splendor, 

Thou   muft  render 
All  thy  feeble  powers  can  pay. 

From  the  ftars  now  learn  thy  duty, 

See  their  beauty 
Paling  in  the  golden  air  ; 
So  God's  light  thy  mifts  mould  banim, 

Thus  mould  vanifh 
What  to  darken'd  sense  seem'd  fair. 


See  how  every  thing  that  liveth, 

Gladly  ftriveth 
On  the  pleasant  light  to  gaze  ; 
Stirs  with  joy  each  thing  that  groweth, 

As  it  knoweth 
Darkness  smitten  by  its  rays. 

Soul,  thy  incense  also  proffer ; 

Thou  fhouldft  offer 
Praise  to  Him,  who  from  thv  head 


Lyra  Germanica.  173 


Kept  afar  the  ftorms  of  sorrow, 

That  the   morrow 
Finds  the  ninht  in  peace  hath   fled. 


©• 


Bid   Him  bless  what  thou  art  doing, 

If  pursuing 
Some  good  aim  ;    but  if  there  lurks 
111  intent  in  thine  endeavor, 

A4ay  He  ever 
Thwart  and  turn  thee   from  thy  works. 

Think  that  He,  the  all-discerning, 

Knows  each  turning 
Of  thy  path,  each  finful  ftain  ; 
Nay,  what  fhame  would  fain  gloss  over, 

Can  discover  ; 
All  thou  doft  to  Him  is  plain. 

Bound  unto  the  flying  hours 

Are  our  powers  ; 
Earth's  vain  good  floats  down  their  wave, 
That  thy  fhip,  my  soul,  is  hailing, 

Never  refting, 
To  its  haven  in  the  grave. 

Pray  that  when  thy  life  is  clofing, 

Calm  repofing, 
Thou  mayfl  die,  and  not  in  pain  ; 
That  the  night  of  death  departed, 


I  74,  Lyra   German'ica. 


Thou  glad-hearted, 
Mayft   behold  the   Sun  again. 

From  God's  glances  fhrinlc  thou  never, 

Meet  them  ever  ; 
Who  submits  him  to  his  grace, 
Finds  that  earth  no  sunfhine  knoweth 

Such  as  gloweth 
O'er  his  pathway  all  his  days. 

Waken'ft  thou  again  to  sorrow, 

Oh!    then  borrow 
Strength  from  Him,  whose  sun-like  might 
On  the  mountain-summit  tarries, 

And  yet  carries 
To  the  #vales  their  mirth  and  light. 

Round  the  gifts  He  on  thee  fhowers, 

Fiery  towers 
Will   He  set,  be  not  afraid  ; 
Thou  (halt  dwell  'mid  angel-legions, 

In  the  regions 
Satan's  self  dares  not  invade. 

Von  Canitz.      1654- 1699. 


Lyra   G*rmani:a.  175 


FOR  THE  SICK  AND  DYING. 

GOD  !    whom  I  as  Love  have  known, 
Thou   haft  fickness  laid  on  me, 
And  these  pains  are  sent  of  Thee, 
Under  which   I   hum  and  moan  ; 
Let  them  burn  away  the   fin, 

That  too  oft  hath  check'd  the  love 
Wherewith  Thou  my  heart  wouldft  move, 
When  thy  Spirit  works  within  ! 

In  my  weakness  be  Thou   ftrong, 

Be  Thou  sweet  when   I  am  sad, 

Let  me  ftill  in  Thee  be  glad, 
Though  my  pains  be  keen  and  long. 
All  that  plagues  my  body  now, 

All  that  wafteth  me  away, 

Preffing  on  me  night  and  day, 
Love  hath  sent,  for  Love  art  Thou! 

Suffering  is  the  work  now  sent, 

Nothing  can  I  do  but  lie 

Suffering  as  the  hours  go  by  ; 
All  my  powers  to  this  are  bent. 
Suffering  is  my  gain  ;   I  bow 

To  my  heavenly  Father's  will 

And  receive   it  hufh'd  and   ftill  ; 
Suffering  is    my  worfhip  now. 

Richter,    1713. 


176 


Lyra   Ger/nanica. 


FOR  THE  BURIAL  OF  THE  DEAD. 

NOW  refts  her  soul  in  Jesus'  arms, 
Her  body  in  the  grave  fleeps  well, 

His  heart  her  death-chill'd  heart  rewarms, 

And  reft  more  deep  than  tongue  can  telly 

Her  few  brief  hours  of  conflict  paiPd, — 

She   finds  with  Chrift,  her  Friend,  at  laft  ; 

She  bathes  in  tranquil  seas  of  peace, 

God  wipes  away  her  tears,  me  feels 
New  life  that  all  her  languor  heals, 

The  glory  of  the  Lamb  fhe  sees. 

She  hath  escaped  all  danger  now, 

Her  pain  and  iighing  all  are  fled  ; 
The  crown  of  joy  is  on  her  brow, 

Eternal  glories  o'er  her  fhed, 
In  golden  robes,  a  queen,  a  bride, 
She  ftandeth  at  her  Sovereign's  fide, 
She  sees  his  face  unveil'd  and  bright; 

With  joy  and  love   He  greets  her  soul 
She  sees  herself  made  inly  whole, 
A  lefTer  light  amid  his  light. 


The  child  hath  now  its  Father  seen, 

And  feels  what  kindling  love  may  be, 

And  knoweth  what  those  words  may  mean, 
"Himself,  the  Father,  loveth  thee." 


Lyra   German  tea. 


'77 


A   fhoreless  ocean,  an  abyss 

Unfathom'd,  fill'd  with  good  and  bliss, 

Now  breaks  on   her  enraptured  fight  ; 

She  sees  God's   face,  (he  learneth  there 
What  this   fhall  be,  to  be  his  heir, 

Joint  heir  with  Chrift  her  Lord,  in  light. 

Allendorf,    1725 


Lyra   Apojlolica.  1 8  I 


LYRA   APOSTOLICA. 


HOLINESS. 

"  The  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  availeth  much." 

THERE  is  not  on  the  earth  a  soul  so  base 
But  may  obtain  a  place 
In  covenanted  grace  ; 
So  that  forthwith  his  prayer  of  faith  obtains 

Release  of  his  guilt-ftains, 
And  firft-fruits  of  the  second  birth,  which  rise 
From  gift  to  gift,  and  reach  at  length  the  eternal  prize. 

All  may  save  self  ; — but  minds  that  heavenward  tower, 
Aim  at  a  wider  power, 
Gifts  on  the  world  to  fhower. — 

And  this  is  not  at  once  ; — by  faftings  gained, 
And  trials  well  suftained, 

By  pureness,  righteous  deeds,  and  toils  of  love, 

Abidance  in  the  truth,  and  zeal  for  God  above. 


1 82  Lyra   Apoftolua. 


AFFLICTION. 
"  Thou  in  faithfulness  hast  afflicted  me.'* 

LORD,  in  this  duft  thy  sovereign  voice 
Firft  quickened  love  divine  ; 
I  am  all  thine, — thy  care  and  choice, 
My  very  praise  is  thine. 

I  praise  Thee,  while  thy  providence 

In  childhood  frail  I  trace, 
For  bleflings  given,  ere  dawning  sense 

Could  seek  or  scan  thy  grace  ; 

Bleflings  in  boyhood's  marvelling  hour 

Bright  dreams,  and  fancyings  ftrange  ; 

Bleflings,  when  reason's  awful  power 
Gave  thought  a  bolder  range  ; 

Bleflings  of  friends,  which  to  my  door 
Unafked,  unhoped,  have  come  ; 

And,  choicer  (till,  a  countless  ftore 
Of  eager  smiles  at  home. 

Yet,  Lord,  in  memory's  fondeft  place 

I  mrine  those  seasons  sad, 
When,  looking  up,  I  saw  thy  face 

Tn     Uin/^    nnrt-prpnpQS    rlad. 


In  kind  auftereness  clad. 


Lyra  Apojhlica.  183 


I   would  not  miss  one  figh  or  tear 
Heart-pang  or  throbbing  brow  ; 

Sweet  was  the  chaftisement  severe, 
And  sweet  its  memory  now. 

Yes  !    let  the  fragrant  scars  abide, 

Love-tokens  in  thy  ftead, 
Faint  fhadows  of  the  spear-pierced  fide, 

And  thorn-encompafTed  head. 

And  such  thy  loving  force  be  ftill, 
'Mid  life's  fierce  fhifting  fray, 

Shaping  to  Truth  self's  froward  will 
Along  thy  narrow  way. 

Deny  me  wealth  ;    far,  far  remove 
The  lure  of  power  or  name  ; 

Hope  thrives  in  {traits,  in  weakness  Love, 
And  Faith  in  this  world's  mame. 


184  Lyra   Apojlolica. 


DISCIPLINE. 

WHEN  I  look  back  upon  my  former  race, 
Seasons   I   see,  at  which   the   Inward   Ray 
More  brightly  burned,  or  guided  some  new  way  ; 
Truth,  in  its  wealthier  scene  and  nobler  space, 
Given   for  my  eye  to  range,  and   feet  to  trace, 
And  next  I   mark,  'twas  trial  did  convey, 
Or  grief,  or  pain,  or  ftrange  eventful  day, 
To  my  tormented  soul  such  larger  grace. 
So  now,  whene'er,  in  journeying  on,  I   feel 
The  fhadow  of  the   Providential   Hand, 
Deep  breathless  ftirrings  moot  across  my  bread:, 
Searching  to  know  what  He  will  now  reveal, 
What  fin  uncloak,  what  stricter  rule  command, 
And  girding  me  to  work  his  full  beheft. 


LEAD  THOU  ME  ON. 

SHED  kindly  light  amid  the  encircling  gloom 
And  lead  me  on! 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
Keep  Thou  my  feet  :   I  do  not  afk  to  see 
The  dijtant  scene  :  one  ftep  enough  for  me. 


Lyra  Apojiolica. 


i85 


I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  Thou 

Should'ft  lead  me  on  ! 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path,  but  now 

Lead  Thou   me  on  ! 
I  loved  day's  dazzling  light,  and  spite  of  fears 
Pride  ruled   my  will  j    remember  not  paft  years! 

So  long  thy   power  hath   blefTed   me,  surely  ftill 

'Twill  lead   me  on  ! 
Through  dreary  doubt,  through  pain  and  sorrow  till 

The  night  is  gone. 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  fince,  and  loft  awhile. 


DEEDS  NOT  WORDS. 

PRUNE  thou  thy  words,  the  thoughts  control 
That  o'er  thee  swell  and  throng; 
They  will  condense  within  thy  soul 
And  change  to  purpose  ftrong. 


But  he,  who  lets  his  feelings  run 

In  soft  luxurious  flow, 
Shrinks  when  hard  service  muft  be  done, 

And  faints  at  every  woe. 


1 86  Lyra   Apojlolica. 


Faith's   meaneft   deed   more  favour  bears, 
Where  hearts  and  wills  are  weighed, 

Than  brighten1  transports,  choiceft   prayers, 
Which  bloom  their  hour  and   fade. 


HOLINESS. 

"  Be  strong,  and  He  shall  comfort  thine  heart." 

"  T  ORD,  I  have  faded,  I  have  prayed, 
-J— '  And  sackcloth  has  my  girdle  been, 
To  purge  my  soul  I  have  efTayed 

With  hunger  blank  and  vigil  keen. 
O  God  of  mercy  !    why  am  I 
Still  haunted  by  the  self  I  fly  ?  " 

Sackcloth  is  a  girdle  good, 

O  bind  it  round  thee  ftill ; 
Fading,  it  is  angels'  food, 

And  Jesus  loved  the  night-air  chill  ; 
Yet  think  not  prayer  and  faft  were  given 
To  make  one  ftep  'twixt  earth  and  heaven. 


Lyra   Jpojfolica.  1 87 


.DAVID    AND    JONATHAN. 
u  Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love  of  women. '" 

O   HEART  of  fire!    misjudged  by  wilful  man, 
Thou   flower  of  JefTe's  race  ! 
What  woe  was  thine,  when  thou  and  Jonathan 

Laft  greeted  face  to  face  ! 
He  doom'd  to  die,  thou  on  us  to  impress 
The  portent  of  a  blood-ftained  holiness. 

Yet  it  was  well  : — for  so,  mid  cares  of  rule, 

And  crime's  encircling  tide, 
A  spell  was  o'er  thee,  zealous  one,  to  cool 

Earth-joy  and  kingly  pride  ; 
With  battle-scene  and  pageant,  prompt  to  blend 
The  pale  calm  sceptre  of  a  blameless  friend. 

Ah  !    had  he  lived,  before  thy  throne  to  ftand 

Thy  spirit  keen  and  high, 
Sure  it  had  snapped  in  twain  love's  flender  band, 

So  dear  in  memory  ; 
Paul's  ftrife  unbleft,*  its  serious  lefTon  gives, 
He  bides  with  us  who  dies,  he  is  but  loft  who  lives. 

*  Acts  15  :   39. 


88  Lyra   Apojlolica. 


BEREAVEMENT. 

"  Wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  duft  and  ashes."' 

Job  xlii.  6. 

AND  dare  I   say,  "  welcome  to   me 
The  pang  that  proves  thee  near  ?  " 
O  words,  too  oft  on  bended  knee 

Breathed  to  the  Unerring  Ear. 
While  the  cold  spirit  filently 

Pines  at  the  scourge  severe. 

Nay,  try  once  more — thine  eyelids  close 

For  prayer  intense  and   meek  : 
When  the  warm  light  gleams  through  and  (hows 

Him  near  who  helps  the  weak. 
Unmurmuring  then  thy  heart's  repose 

In  duft  and  afhes  seek. 

But  when  the  self-abhorring  thrill 

Is  paft,  as  pass  it  muft, 
When  tasks  of  life  thy  spirit  fill, 

Risen  from  thy  tears  and  duft, 
Then  be  the  self-renouncing  will 

The  seal  of  thy  calm  truft. 


Lyra   Apo/folica.  1 89 


CONFESSION. 

MY   smile   is  bright,  my  glance   is   free, 
My  voice  is  calm  and  clear  ; 
Dear  friend,   I   seem  a  type  to  thee 
Of  holy  love  and   fear. 

But  I  am  scanned  by  eyes  unseen, 
And  these  no  saint  surround  ; 

They  mete  what  is,  by  what  has  been, 
And  joy  the  loft  is  found. 

Erst  my  good  Angel  fhrank  to   see 
My  thoughts  and  ways  of  ill ; 

And  now  he  scarce  dare  gaze  on  me, 
Scar-seamed  and  crippled  ftill. 


190  Lyra  Apoftdica. 


FAITH. 
M  It  is  1 1  be  not  afraid." 

WHEN  I   fink  down  in  gloom  or  fear, 
Hope  blighted  or  delayed, 
Thy  whisper,  Lord,  my  heart  mail  cheer 
"  'Tis  I  :   be  not  afraid  !  " 

Or,  ltartled  at  some  sudden  blow, 

If  fretful  thoughts  I   feel, 
"Fear  not,  it  is  but  I  !  "  mall  flow 

As  balm  my  wound  to  heal. 

Nor  will  I  quit  thy  way,  though  foes 

Some  onward  pass  defend  ; 
From  each  rough  voice  the  watchword  goes, 

"  Be  not  afraid  !  .   .   .   a  friend  !  " 

And  O  !     when  judgment's  trumpet  clear 

Awakes  me  from  the  grave, 
Still  in  its  echo  may  I  hear, 

"  'Tis  Chrift  !     He  comes  to  save." 


Lyra   Apojlolica.  19 1 


HOME. 

BANISHED  the  House  of  sacred  reft 
Amid  a  thoughtless  throng, 
At  length   I   heard  its  Creed  confefled, 
And  knelt  the  Saints  among. 

Artless  his  ftrain  and  unadorned, 

Who  spoke  Chrift's  meflage  there  ; 

But  what  at  home  I   might  have  scorned, 
Now  charmed  my  famifhed  ear. 

Lord,  grant  me  this  abiding  grace, 
Thv  Word  and  Sons  to  know  ; 

To  pierce  the  veil  on  Moses'  face, 
Although  his  speech  be  flow  ! 


Lyra   Innocentium.  1 9  5 


LYRA    INNOCENTIUM. 


UNWEARIED    LOVE. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  say  not  unto  thee,  until  seven  times ;  but 
until  seventy  times  seven." 

MY  child,  the  counsels  high  attend 
Of  thine   Eternal  Friend. 
When  longings  pure,  when  holy  prayers, 
When  self-denying  thoughts  and  cares 

Room  in  thy  heart  would  win, 
Stay  not  too  long  to  count  them  o'er  ; 
Rise  in  His  name  ;    throw  wide  the  door, 
Let  the  good  Angels  in  : 

Nor  liften,  mould  the  Tempter  say, 

"  How  wearying,  day  by  day, 
To  say  the  prayer  we  said  before, 
The  mountain  path  climb  o'er  and  o'er, 
No  end  to  warfare  find!" 


Iq6  Lyra   Innocentium. 


Nor  seek  thou  limit  to  discern 
In   patient  woe,  in  duty  ftem, 

But  learn  thy  (Saviour's)  mind. 

He  pardoning  wearies  not.      Ah  why 

Behold  with  evil  eye 
Thy  brother  afking  grace  for  fin  ? 
He  doth  but  aid  thee,  more  to  win 

Of  hope  in  thy  laft  end. 
In  heart  forgive — that  pays   Him  all  : 
But  grudging  souls  muft  die  in   thrall, 

No  Saviour  and  no  Friend. 


THE  BOY  WITH  THE  FIVE  LOAVES. 

'If  thou  hast  little,  do  thy  diligence  gladly  to  give  of  that  little." 


W 


HAT  time  the  Saviour  spread  his  feaft 
For  thousands  on  the  mountain's  fide, 
One  of  the  laft  and  leaft 

The  abundant  store  supplied. 

Haply  the  wonders  to  behold, 

A  boy,  'mid  other  boys  he  came, 
A  lamb  of  Jesus'   fold, 

Though  now  unknown  by  name. 


Lyra   Innocentium.  197 


Or  for  his  sweet  obedient  ways 

The  Apoftles  brought  him  near,  to  fhare 
Their  Lord's  laborious  days, 
His  frugal  bafket  bear. 

Or  might  it  be  his  duteous  heart 
That  led  him  sacrifice  to  bring 
For  his  own  fimple  part, 

To  the  world's  hidden  King  ? 

Well  may  I  guess  how  glow'd  his  cheek, 
How  he  look'd  down,  half  pride,  half  fear 
Far  off  he  saw  one  speak 
Of  him  in  Jesus'  ear. 

"  There  is  a  lad — five  loaves  hath  he, 
And  fifhes  twain— but  what  are  they, 
Where  hungry  thousands  be  ?  " 
Nay,  Chrift  will  find  a  way. 

In  order,  on  the  frefh  green  hill, 

The  mighty  Shepherd  ranks  his  fheep 
By  tens  and  fifties,  ftill 

As  clouds  when  breezes  fleep. 

Or  who  can  tell  the  trembling  joy, 
Who  paint  the  grave  endearing  look, 
When  from  that  favored  boy 

The  wondrous  pledge  He  took  ? — 


iq8  Lyra   Innocent lum. 


Keep  thou,  dear  child,  thine  early  word  ; 
Bring  Him  thy  befl:  :    who  knows  but  He 
For  his  eternal  board 

May  take  some  gift  of  thee  ? 

Thou  prayeft  without  the  veil  as  yet  : 
But  kneel  in  faith  :  an  arm  benign 
Such  prayers  will  duly  set 
Within  the  holieft  fhrine. 

And  Pfayer  has  might  to  spread  and  grow. 
Thy  childifh  darts,  right-aim'd  on  high, 
May  catch  Heaven's  fire,  and  glow 
Far  in  the  eternal  iky  : 

Even  as  He  made  that  ftripling's  ftore 
Type  of  the  feaft  by  Him  decreed, 
Where  Angels  might  adore, 
And  souls  for  ever  feed. 


g^fpv 


Lyra  Innocent'ium.  199 


HEZEKIAH'S   DISPLAY. 

"  There  is  nothing  among  my  treasures  that  I  have  not  showed 
them." 

WHEN  Heaven  in  mercy  gives  thy  prayers  return, 
And  Angels  bring  thee  treasures  from  on  high, 
Shut  fast  the  door,  nor  let  the  world  discern, 
And  offer  thee  fond  praise  when  God  is  nigh. 

In  friendly  guise,  perchance  with  friendly  heart, 
From  Babel,  see,  they  hafte   with  words  of  love  : 

But  if  thou  lightly  all  thy  wealth  impart, 

Their  race  will  come  again,  and  all  remove. 

Ill  thoughts,  the  children  of  that  King  of  Pride, 
O'er  richeft  halls  will  swarm,  and  holieft  bowers, 

Profaning  firft,  then  spoiling  far  and  wide  : 

Voluptuous  Sloth  make  free  with  Sharon's  flowers. 

Close  thou  the  garden-gate,  and  keep  the  key, 
There  chiefly,  where  the  tender  seedlings  fold 

Their  dainty  leaves — a  treasure  even  to  thee 
Unknown,  till  air  celeftial  make  them  bold. 

When  sun  and  fhower  give  token,  freely  then 
The  fragrance  will  fteal  out,  the  flower  unclose  : 


200  Lyra   Innocentium. 


But  busy  hands,  and  an  admiring  ken, 

Have  blighted  ere  its  hour  full  many  a  rose. 

Then  reft  thee,  bright  one,  in  thy  tranquil  nook, 
Fond   eyes  to  cherifh  thee,  true  arms  to  keep, 

Nor  wiftful  for  the  world's  gay  sunfhine  look  ; — 
In  its  own  time  the  light  will  o'er  thee  sweep. 


FINE   CLOTHES. 

"  And  a  very  great  multitude  spread  their  garments  in  the  way  ; 
others  cut  down  branches  from  the  trees,  and  strewed  them  in  the 
way." 

(For  Palm  Sunday.) 

LOOK  weftward,  penfive  little  one, 
How  the  bright  hues  together  run, 
Around  where  late  the  waning  sun 

Sank  in  his  evening  cloud. 
Or  eaftward  turn  thee,  and  admire 
How  linger  yet  the  mowers  of  fire, 
Deep  in  each  fold,  high  on  each  spire 
Of  yonder  mountain  proud. 

Thou  seeft  it  not :  an  envious  screen, 
A  fluttering  leaflet,  hangs  between 


Lyra   Innoccnt'iiim.  201 


Thee  and  that  fair  myfterious  scene, 

A  veil  too  near  thine  eye. 
One  finger's  breadth  at  hand  will  mar 
A  world  of  light  in  heaven  afar, 
A   mote  eclipse  a  glorious  ftar, 

An  eyelid  hide  the  fky. 

And  while  to  clear  the  view  we  ftay 
Lo!  the  bright  hour  hath  paiT'd  away; 
A  twilight  haze,  all  dim  and  gray, 

Hath  quench'd  the  living  gleam. 
Remember  this,  thou  little  child, 
In  hours  of  prayer,  when  fancies  wild 
Betwixt  thee  and  thy  Saviour  mild 

Come  floating  on  life's  ftream. 

O  fhame,  O  grief,  when  earth's  rude  toys, 
An  opening  door,  a  breath,  a  noise, 
Drive  from  the  heart  th'  eternal  joys, 

Displace  the  Lord  of  Love  ! 
For  half  a  prayer  perchance  on  high 
We  soar,  and  heaven  seems  bright  and  nigh, 
But  ah  !  too  soon  frail  heart  and  eye 

Sink  down  and  earthward  rove. 

The  Sunday  garment  glittering  gay 
The  Sunday  heart  will  fteal  away. 
Then  hafte  thee,  ere  the  fond  glance  ftray, 
Thy  precious  robes  unfold, 


202  Lyra    Innocentium. 


And  caft  before  thy  Saviour's   feet: 
Him  spare  not  with  thy  bed  to  greet, 
Nor  dread  the  dufl:  of  Sion's  ftreet, 
'Tis  jewels  all  and  gold. 


SHYNESS. 
"  Moses  hid  his  face  ;  for  he  was  afraid  to  look  upon  God." 


T 


EAR  not  away  the  veil,  dear  friend, 
Nor  from  its  fhelter  rudely  rend 
The  heaven-protected  flower  : 
It  waits  for  sun  and  mower 
To  woo  it  kindly  forth  in  its  own  time, 
And   when    they   come,   untaught    will    know    its    hour    of 
prime. 

Blame  not  the  eye  that  from  thee  turns, 
The  cheek  that  in  a  moment  burns 
With  tingling  fire  so  bright, 
Feeling  thine  eager  Tight, — 
The  lowly  drooping  brow,  the  ftammering  tongue, 
The    giddy    wavering   thought,    scarce    knowing    right    and 
wrong. 


Lyra   Innoccnt'ium.  203 


With   quivering  hands  that  closely   fold 
Over  his  downcaft  eyes,  behold 

The  Shepherd  on  the  Mount 

Adores  the  Living  Fount 
Of  pure  unwafting  fire  :   no  glance  he   fteals, 
But  in  his  heart's  deep  joy  the  Dread  Eye  gazing  feels, — 

Feels  it,  and  gladlier  far  would  die 
Than  let  it  go.     There  will  he  lie 

Till  the  Dread  Voice  return, 

And  he  the  lore  may  learn 
Of  his  appointed  tafk — bold  deeds  to  dare, 
High  myfteries  to  impart,  deep  penances  to  bear. 

Then  tear  we  not  the  veil  away, 
Nor  ruthless  tell  in  open  day 

The  tender  spirit's  dream. 

O  let  the  deepening  ftream, 
Might,  from  the  mountain-springs  in  filence  draw ; 
O  mar  we  not  his  work,  who  trains  his  saints  in  awe. 


204  Lyra   Innocentium. 


THE   GLEANERS. 

THE  Church  is  one  wide  harveft  field, 
Where  Time  and  Death  are  gathering  in 
Rich  bleflings  by  the  Almighty  owner  sealed 
For  spirits  meet  his  pardoning  word  to  win. 

We  are  as  children  :   here  and  there 

A  few  fallen  ears,  the  fheaves  among, 
We  glean,  where  beft  the  bounteous   Hand  may  spare, 

So  learning  for  his  perfect  ftore  to  long. 

Come,  little  ones — come  early  out, 

Come  joyous,  come  with  fteady  heart, 
Roam  not  to  seek  wild  flowers  the  field  about, 

Nor  yet  at  dreams  of  fancied  vipers  ftart. 

The  sun  of  Autumn  climbs  full  fa  ft  : 
He  will  have  quaffed  each  drop  of  dew, 

Ere  half  the  fragrant,  healthy  lane  be  patted, 

The  lingerers,  they  will  find  scant  ears  and  few. 

Come,  quit  your  toys,  and  hafte  away. 

But  mark  :  ye  may  not  leave  behind 
Your  ftore  of  smiles,  your  gladsome  talk  and  gay, 

Your  pure  thoughts,  fafihioned  to  your  Mafter's   mind. 


Lyra   Innocentinm. 


205 


Blithe  be  your  course,  yet  bear  in  heart 
The  lame  and  old,  and  help  them  on  ; 

Full  handfulls  drop  where  they  may  take  a  part, 
As  high  will  swell  your  heap  when  day  is  done. 

Yon   (lumbering  infant  in  the  made, — 
Grudge  not  one  hour  on  him  to  wait 

While  others  glean.      The  work  with  Tinging  aid, 
With  ready  mirth  all  (harper  tones  abate. 

Sing  softly  in  your  heart  all  day 

Sweet  carols  to  the  harveft's  Lord, 
So  fhall  ye  chase  those  evil  powers  away 

That  walk  at  noon — rude  gaze  and  wanton  word. 


EFFECT   OF   EXAMPLE. 


"  For  I  have  five  brethren  ;  that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest 
they  also  come  into  this  place  of  torment." 

T^IVE  loving  souls,  each  one  as  mine, 
-*-      And  each  for  evermore  to  be  ! 
Each  deed  of  each  to  thrill 

For  good  or  ill 
Along  thine  awful  line, 
Eternity  ! 


20 6  Lyra   Innocentiufti. 


Who  for  such  burden  may  suffice  ? 

Who  bear  to  think,  how  scornful  tone, 
Or  word  or  glance  too  bold, 

Or  ill  dream  told, 
May  bar  from  Paradise 
Our  Mailer's  own  ? 

We  scatter  seeds  with  careless  hand, 

And  dream  we  ne'er  mall  see  them  more 
But  for  a  thousand  years 

Their  fruit  appears, 
In  weeds  that  mar  the  land, 
Or  healthful  ftore. 

The  deeds  we  do,  the  words  we  say, — 
Into  ftill  air  they  seem  to  fleet, 
We  count  them  ever  paft  ; 

But  they  mail  laft, 
In  the  dread  judgment  they 
And  we  fhall  meet  ! 

I  charge  thee  by  the  years  gone  by, 

For  the  love's  sake  of  brethren  dear, 
Keep  thou  the  one  true  way 

In  work  and  play, 
Left  in  that  world  their  cry 
Of  woe  thou  hear  ! 


Lyra  Innocentium.  207 


THE   WATERFALL. 

"  Ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up,  a  spiritual  house. 
11  I  will  make  thy  seed  as  the  dust  of  the  earth." 


WHA' 


HAT  is  the  Church,  and  what  am  I  ? 
world,  to  one  poor  sandy  grain, 
A  wafte  of  sea  and  fky 
To  one  frail  drop  of  rain. 


"  What  boots  one  feeble  infant  tone 
To  the  full  choir  denied  or  given, 
Where  millions  round  the  Throne 
Are  chanting,  morn  and  even  ?  " 

Nay,  the  kind  Watchers  hearkening  there 
Diftinguifh  in  the  deep  of  song 
Each  little  wave,  each  air 
Upon  the  faltering  tongue. 

Each  half  note  in  the  great  Amen, 
Even  by  the  utterer's  self  unheard, 
They  ftore  :   O  fail  not  then 
To  bring  thy  lowly  word  : 

Spare  not  to  swell  the  bold  acclaim  ; 
So  in  the  future  battle-mout, 
When  at  the  Saviours  name 
The  Church  mail  call  thee  out, 


208  Lyra   lnnocentlum. 

No  doubtful  sound  thy  trump  (hall  pour. 
Remember,  when  in  earlier  days 
Thou  toil'dft  upon  the  floor 
Palace  or  tower  to  raise, 

No  mimic  ftone  but  found  a  place, 
And  glorious  to  the  builder  fhone 
The  pile  :   then  how  mould  Grace 
One  living  gem  disown, 

One  pearly  mote,  one  diamond  small, 
One  sparkle  of  th*  unearthly  light  ? — 
Go  where  the  waters  fall 

Sheer  from  the  mountains  height ; 

Mark  how,  a  thousand  ftreams  in  one, 
One  in  a  thousand  on  they  fare, 
Now  flaming  to  the  sun, 
Now  ftill  as  beaft  in  lair. 

Now  round  the  rock,  now  mounting  o'er, 
In  lawless  dance  they  win  their  way, 
Still  seeming  more  and  more 
To  swell  as  we  survey. 

They  win  their  way,  and  find  their  reft 
Together  in  their  ocean  home. 
From  Eaft  and  weary  Weft, 

From  North  and   South  they  come. 


Lyra   lnnocentium,  209 


They  rufh  and  roar,  they  whirl  and  leap, 
Not  wilder  drives  the  wintry  ftorm  : 
Yet  a  ftrong  law  they  keep, 

Strange  powers  their  course  inform. 

Even  so  the  mighty  fky-born  ftream  : — 
Its  living  waters  from  above 
All  marr'd  and  broken  seem, 
No  union  and  no  love. 

Yet  in  dim  caves  they  haply  blend, 
In  dreams  of  mortals  unespied  : 
One  is  their  awful  End, 
One  their  unfailing  Guide. 

We  that  with  eye  too  daring  seek 

To  scan  their  course,  all  giddy  turn  : — 
Not  so  the  floweret  meek, 
Harebell  or  nodding  fern  : 

They  from  the  rocky  wall's  fteep  fide 
Lean  without  fear,  and  drink  the  spray  ; 
The  torrent's  foaming  pride 

But  keeps  them  green  and  gay. 

And  Chrift  hath  lowly  hearts,  that  reft 
Amid  fallen  Salem's  rum  and  ftrife  ; 
The  pure,  peace-loving  breaft 
Even  here  can  find  her  life. 

N 


210  Lyra   Innocentium. 


What  though   in  harfh  and  angry  note 

The  broken  flood  chafe  high  ?   they  muse 
On   mifts  that  lightly   float, 
On  heaven-descending  dews, 

On  virgin  snows,  the  feeders  pure 

Of  the  bright  river's  mountain  springs  : — 
And  ftill  their  prayers  endure, 
And  Hope  sweet  answer  brings. 

If  of  the  Living  Cloud  they  be 
Baptismal  drops,  and  onward  press 
Toward  the  Living  Sea 
By  deeds  of  holiness, 

Then  to  the  Living  Waters  ftill 

(O  joy  with  trembling!)  they  pertain, 
Joined  by  some  hidden  rill, 
Low  in  Earth's  darkeft  vein. 

Scorn  not  one  drop :  of  drops  the  mower 
Is  made,  of  mowers  the  waterfall  : 
Of  children's  souls  the  Power 
Doomed  to  be  Queen  o'er  all. 


Lyra   Inncccnthim.  211 

CHURCH    DECORATIONS. 

"  I  will  not  offer  burnt-offerings  without  cost." 

"  \X7HY  deck  the  high  cathedral  roof 
▼  V     With   foliage  rich  and  rare, 
With  crowns  and  flowerets  far  aloof, 
To  none  but  angels  fair  ? 

"Why  for  the  lofty  Altar  hide 

Thy  gems  and  gold  in  ftore  ? 
WThy  spread  the  burnifhed  pall  so  wide 

Upon  the  chancel  floor  ?  " 

Nay,  rather  afk,  why  duteous  boy 

And  mother-loving  maid 
Scarce  in  their  filial  gifts  find  joy, 

If  nought  of  theirs  be  paid  : 

Why  hearts,  that  true  love-tokens  need 

For  brother  or  for  friend, 
Count  not  the  coft  with  careful  heed, 

But  hafte  their  all  to  spend  : 

Afk  why  of  old  the  favored  king 

Inquired  the  Temple's   price, 
Not  bearing  to  his  Lord  to  bring 

An  unbought  sacrifice. 


2i2  Lyra   Innocentium. 


Yea,   lowly   fall,  and   of  thy  Lord 

In  filence  afk  and  dread, 
Why  praised  He  Mary's  ointment,  poured 

Upon  his  Sacred  Head. 


ELIJAH    AT   SAREPTA. 

"  Make  me  thereof  a  little  cake  first,  and  bring  it  unto  me,  and 
after  make  for  thee  and  for  thy  son." 

LO,  caft  at  random  on  the  wild  sea  sand 
A  child  low  wailing  lies  : 
Around,  with  eye  forlorn  and  feeble  hand, 

Scarce  heeding  its  faint  cries, 
The  widowed  mother  in  the  wilderness 
Gathers  dry  boughs,  their  laft  sad  meal  to  bless. 

But  who  is  this  that  comes  with  mantle  rude 

And  vigil-wafted  air? 
Who  to  the  famifhed  cries,  "  Come  give  me  food, 

I  with  thy  child  would  fhare  ?  " 
She  bounteous  gives  :  but  hard  he  seems  of  heart, 
Who  of  such  scanty  ftore  would  crave  a  part. 

Haply  the  child  his  little  hand  holds   forth, 
That  all  his  own  may  be. — 


Lyra   Innocent'ium.  213 


Nay,  fimple  one,  thy  mother's  faith  is  worth 

Healing  and  life  to  thee. 
That  handful  given,  for  years  insures  thee  bread  ; 
That  drop  of  oil  mall  raise  thee  from  the  dead. 

For  in  yon  haggard  form  He  begs  unseen, 

To  whom   for  life  we  kneel  : 
One  little  cake  He  afks  with  lowly  mien, 

Who  blefTes  every  meal. 
Lavifh  for  Him,  ye  poor,  your  children's  ftore 
So  fhall  your  cruise  for  many  a  day  run  o'er. 


THE   EMPTY   CHURCH. 

"  The  blind  and  the  lame  came  to  him  in  the  temple." 

WHY  mould  we  grudge  the  hour  and  house  of  prayer 
To  Chrift's  own  blind  and  lame, 
Who  come  to  meet  Him  there  ? 
Better,  be  sure,  his  altar-flame 
Should  glow  in  one  dim  wavering  spark, 
Than  quite  die  down,  and  leave  his  temple  drear  and  dark. 

i 

"  But  in  our  Psalm  their  choral  answers  fail." 

Nay,  but  the  heart  may  speak, 

And  to  the  holy  tale 
Respond  aright  in  filence  meek. 


214  Lyra  Innocent  turn. 


And  well  we  know,  bright  angel  throngs 
Are  by,  to  swell  those  whisperings  into  warbled  songs. 

What  if  the  world  our  two  or  three  despise  ? 

They  in  his  name  are  here, 

To  whom  in  suppliant  guise 
Of  old  the  blind  and  lame  drew  near. 
Befide  his  royal  courts  they  wait 
And  afk  his  healing  hand  ;  we  dare  not  close  the  gate. 


• 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


Miscellaneous.  217 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


1 


VIGILS. 

T  is  the  fall  of  eve  ; 
And  the  long  tapers  now  we  light 
And  watch  :  for  we  believe 
Our  Lord  may  come  at  night. 
Adefte  Fideles. 


An  hour — and  it  is  Seven, 
And  faft  away  the  evening  rolls  : 

O,  it  is  dark  in  heaven, 
But  light  within  our  souls. 

Veni  Creator  Spiritus  ! 

Hark!  the  old  bell  ftrikes  Eight! 
And  ftill  we  watch  with  heart  and  ear, 

For  as  the  hour  grows  late, 
The  Day-ftar  may  be  near. 
Jubilate  Deo  ! 

Hark  !  it  is  knelling  Nine ! 
But  faithful  eyes  grow  never  dim  ; 


2 1 8  Miscellaneous. 


And  ftill  our  tapers  fhine, 
And  ftill  ascends  our  hymn. 
Cum  Angelis  ! 

The  watchman  crieth  Ten  ! 
My  soul,  be  watching  for  the  Light, 

For  when  he  comes  again, 
'Tis  as  the  thief  at  night. 
Nisi  Dominus  ! 

By  the  old  bell— Eleven! 
Now  trim  thy  lamps,  and  ready  ftand  ; 

The  world  to  deep  is  given, 
But  Jesus  is  at  hand. 
De  Profundis! 

At  midnight — is  a  cry! 
Is  it  the  bridegroom  draweth  near  ? 

Come  quickly,  Lord,  for  I 
Have  long'd  thy  voice  to  hear! 
Kyrie  Eleison  ! 

Could  ye  not  watch  One  hour? 
Be  ready  :  or  the  bridal  train 

And  bridegroom,  with  his  dower, 
May  sweep  along  in  vain. 
Miserere  mei  ! 

By  the  old  fteeple — Two  ! 
And  now  I  know  the  day  is  near  ! 


Miscellaneous. 


219 


Watch — for  his  word   is  true, 
And  Jesus  may  appear  ! 
Dies  Irae  ! 

Three — by  the  drowsy  chime! 
And  joy  is  nearer  than  at  firft. 

O,  let  us  watch   the  time 
When  the  firft  light  mail  burft ! 
Sursum  Corda. 

Four — and  a  ftreak  of  day  ! 
At  the  cock-crowing  He  may  come  j 

And  ftill  to  all  I  say, 
Watch — and  with  awe  be  dumb. 
Fili  David! 

Five ! — and  the  tapers  now 
In  rosy  morning  dimly  burn  ! 

Stand,  and  be  girded  thou, 
Thy  Lord  will  yet  return  ! 
Veni  Jesu! 

Hark !  tis  the  Matin  call  ! 
Oh,  when  our  Lord  mail  come  again 

At  prime  or  even-fall, 
Bleft  are  the  wakeful  men  ! 
Nunc  dimittis. 

A.   C.   Coxe. 

Note. — The  Latin  lines,  at  the  end  of  every  stanza,  are  the  titles 
of  chaunts   appropriate   to   the  several    hours.     Adeste :    Hither  ye 


220  Miscellaneous. 


faithful.— Vent  Creator:  Come  Holy  Ghost.— Jubilate  Deo:  The 
100th  ?va\m.—CumAngeliti  Therefore  with  angels  and  archangels, 
Sec— Nisi  Dominus:  Unless  the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  Watchman 
waketh  but  in  vain.— De  Profundis  :  Out  of  the  depths,  Fs.  130.— 
Kyrie  Eleison:  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us.— The  Miserere:  Ps.  57.— 
Dies  Irae :  The  day  of  wrath.— Sursum  Corda :  Lift  up  your  hearts. 
— Fili  David :  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  us.— Vent  Jesu  : 
Come  Lord  Jesus— come  quickly.— Nunc  Dimittis  :  Now  Lord  let- 
test  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  Luke  2.   29. 


PENITENCE. 

DEEPEN  the  wounds  thy  hands  have   made 
In  this  weak,  helpless  soul, 
Till  mercy,  with  its  balmy  aid, 
Descend  to  make  me  whole. 

I  see  the  exceeding  broad  command, 

Which  all  contains  in  one  : 
Enlarge  my  heart  to  underftand 

The  myftery  unknown. 

O   that,  with  all  thy  saints,  I   might 

By  sweet  experience  prove 
What  is  the  length,  and  breadth,  and   height, 

And  depth  of  perfect  love  ! 

C.    Wesley. 


i  Miicelk 


221 


GOING   TO    CHRIST. 

"  Him   that  cometh    unto  me,   I   will    in    no  wise  cast  out." 
John  6  :   37. 

JUST  as  I  am  !  without  one  plea 
But  that  thy  blood  was  med  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bid'ft  me  come  to  Thee, — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

Juft  as  I  am, — and  waiting  not 

To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 

To  Thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot — 

Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Juft  as  I  am— though  toffed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,   many  a  doubt — 
Fightings  within,  and  fears  without — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Juft  as  I  am — poor,  wretched,  blind, 
Sight,  riches,  healing  of  the  mind, 
Yea,  all  I  need,  in  Thee  to  find, — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 


Juft  as  I  am — Thou  wilt  receive, 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve, 
Because  thy  promise  I  believe — 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 


222  Miscellaneous. 


Juft  as  I  am — thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down  ; 
Now  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 
Oh  Lamb  of  God,  I  come! 

Charlotte  Elliot. 


LOVE   OF   GOD. 

THOU  Grace  divine,  encircling  all 
A  soundless,  fhoreless  sea  ! 
Wherein  at  laft,  our  souls  mall  fall, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  free  ! 

When  over  dizzy  fteeps  we  go, 
One  soft  hand  blinds  our  eyes, 

The  other  leads  us  safe  and  flow, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  wise ! 

And  though  we  turn  us  from  thy  face, 
And  wander  wide  and  long, 

Thou  hold'ft  us  ftill  in  thine  embrace, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  ftrong! 

The  saddened  heart,  the  reftless  soul 
The  toilworn  frame  and  mind, 

Alike  confess  thy  sweet  control, 
O  Love  of  God  moft  kind  ! 


Miscellaneous. 


223 


But  not  alone  thy  care  we  claim, 
Our  wayward  steps  to  win  : 

We  know  thee  by  a  dearer  name, 
O  Love  of  God  within  ! 

And   filled  and  quickened  by  thy  breath, 
Our  souls  are  ftrong  and  free 

To  rise  o'er  fin,  and  fear,  and  death, 
O  Love  of  God,  to  thee  ! 


EVENING   PRAYER. 

T  COME  to  Thee  to-night, 
•*•   In  my  lone  closet  where  no  eye  can  see 
And  dare  to  crave  an  interview  with  Thee, 
Father  of  love  and  light. 


Softly  the  moonbeams  fhine 
On  the  flill  branches  of  the  fhadowy  trees, 
While  all  sweet  sounds  of  evening  on  the  breeze 

Steal  through  the  flumbering  vine. 

Thou  gav'ft  the  calm  repose 
That  rests  on  all ;  the  air,  the  birds,  the  flower, 
The  human  spirit  in  its  weary  hour 

Now  at  the  bright  day's  close. 


224  Miscellaneous. 


1 


'Tis   Nature's   time   for  prayer  ; 
The  filent  praises  of  the  glorious   fky, 
And  the  earth's  orisons  profound  and  high 

To  Heaven  their  breathings  bear. 

With  them  my  soul  would  bend 
In  humble  reverence  at  thy  Holy  Throne, 
Trufting  the  merits  of  thy  Son  alone 

Thy  sceptre  to  extend. 

If  I  this  day  have  ftriven 
With  thy  bleft  spirit,  or  have  bowed  the  knee 
To  aught  of  earth  in  weak  idolatry 

I  pray  to  be  forgiven. 

If  in  my  heart  has  been 
An  unforgiving  thought,  or  word,  or  look 
Though  deep  the  malice  which  I  scarce  could  brook 

Wafh  me  from  the  dark  fin. 

If  I  have  turned  away 
From  grief  or  suffering  which  I  might  relieve, 
Careless  the  cup  of  water  e'en  to  give 

Forgive  me  Lord  I  pray. 

And  teach  me  how  to  feel 
My  finful  wanderings  with  a  deeper  smart  j 
And  more  of  mercy  and  of  grace  impart 

My  finfulness  to  heal. 


Miscellaneous. 

225 

Father  !   my  soul  would  be 

Pure 

!  as  the  drops  of  eve's   unsullied 

dew — 

And 

as  the  ftars  whose  nightly  course  is  true — 

So  would  I  be  to  Thee. 

Not   for  myself  alone 

Wo 

uld   I   these  bleflings  of  thy  love 

implore  ; 

But 

for  each   penitent  the  wide  earth 

o'er 

Whom  Thou  haft  called  thine  own. 

And  for  my  heart's  bed:  friends, 

Wh 

ose  fteadfaft   kindness  o'er  my  painful  years 

Has 

watched  to  soothe  affliction's  griefs  and  tears, 

My  warmeft  prayer  ascends. 

Should  o'er  their  path  decline 

The 

light  of  gladness,  or  of  hope,  or  health, 

Be 

Thou  their  solace,  and  their  joy, 
As  they  have  long  been  mine. 

And  now,  O  Father,  take 

and  wealth, 

The 

heart  I   caft  with   humble   faith 

on  Thee, 

And 

cleanse  its   depths  from  each  im 
For  my  Redeemer's  sake. 

0 

purity, 
Anonymous. 

226  Miscellaneous. 


T 


EVENING   HYMN. 

HE   night   is  come;  like  to  the   day, 
Depart  not  thou,  great  God,  away. 
Let  not  my  fins  black  as  the   night, 
Eclipse  the  luftre  of  thy  light. 
Keep   drill  in  my  horizon  :   for  to   me 
The  sun   makes  not  the  day,  but  Thee. 
Thou  whose  nature  cannot  deep, 
On  my  temples  sentry  keep  : 
Guard   me   'gainft  those  watchful  foes, 
Whose  eyes  are  open  while  mine  close. 
Let  no  dreams   my  head  infeft 
But  such  as  Jacob's  temples  bleft. 
Whilft  I  do  reft,  my  soul  advance  ; 
Make  my  deep  a  holy  trance  : 
That  I   may,  my  reft  being  wrought, 
Awake  into  some  holy  thought. 
And  with   as  active  vigor  run 
My  course,  as  doth  the  nimble  sun. 
Sleep  is  a  death,   O   make  me  try, 
By   deeping,  what  it   is  to  die  : 
And  as  gently  lay  my  head 
On   my  grave  as  now  my  bed. 
Howe'er  I   reft,   great  God,  let   me 
Awake  again  at  Lift  with  Thee. 


MiscelL 


a  nevus. 


227 


And  thus  affur'd,  behold  I  lie 

Securely,  or  to  wake  or  die. 

These  are   my  drowsy  days  ;   in  vain 

I   do  now  wake  to  flecp  again  : 

O  come  that   hour,  when   I   mall   never 

Sleep  thus  again,  but  wake  for  ever. 

Sir   Thomas  Browne. 


PRAYER. 


T?  RE  the  morning's  busy  ray 

■■— '  Call  you  to  your  work  away  ; 

Ere  the  filent  evening  close 

Your  wearied  eyes  in  sweet  repose  ; 

To  lift  your  heart  and  voice  in  prayer 

Be  your  first  and  latest  care. 


He,  to  whom  the  prayer  is  due, 

From  heaven  his  throne  mall  smile  on  you  ; 

Angels  sent  by  Him  mail  tend, 

Your  daily  labor  to  befriend, 

And  their  nightly  vigils  keep 

To  guard  you  in  the  hour  of  fleep. 

Bijhop  Mant, 


228 


Miscellaneous. 


OH   Lord  !  how  happy  fhould  we  be, 
If  we  could  leave  our  cares  to  Thee, 
If  we   from  self  could  reft  : 
And   feel  at  heart  that  One  above, 
In  perfect  wisdom,  perfect  love 
Is  working,  for  the  beft. 

For  when  we  kneel  and  caft  our  care 
Upon  our  God  in  humble  prayer, 

With  ftrengthened  souls  we  rise. 
Sure  that  our  Father  who  is  nigh 
To  hear  the  ravens  when  they  cry 

Will  hear  his  children's  cries. 

Oh  !  would  these  reftless  hearts  of  ours 
The  leffon  learn  from  birds  and  flowers 

And  learn  from  self  to  cease  ; 
Leave  all  things  to  our  Father's  will, 
And  in  his  mercy  trufting  ftill 

Find  in  each  trial,  peace. 

Anonymous. 


Miscellaneous. 


229 


MY   TIMES   ARE    IN   THY   HAND. 

FATHER,  I  know  that  all  my  life 
Is  portioned  out  for  me, 
And  the  changes  that  will  surely  come, 

I  do  not  fear  to  see  ; 
But  I  afk  Thee  for  a  present  mind 
Intent  on  pleafing  Thee. 

I  afk  Thee  for  a  thoughtful  love, 
Through  conftant  watching  wise, 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles, 
And  to  wipe  the  weeping  eyes  ; 

And  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself, 
To  sooth  and  sympathize. 

I  would  not  have  the  reftless  will 

That  hurries  to  and  fro, 
Seeking  for  some  great  thing  to  do, 

Or  secret  thing  to  know ; 
I  would  be  treated  as  a  child, 

And  guided  where  I  go. 

Wherever  in  the  world  I  am, 

In  whatsoe'er  eftate, 
I  have  a  fellowfhip  with  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate  ; 


L. 


2  3° 


Miscellaneous. 


And  a  work  of  lowly  love  to  do, 
For  the  Lord  on  whom  I  wait. 

So  I  afk  Thee  for  the  daily  ftrength, 

To  none  that  afk  denied. 
And  a  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life, 

While  keeping  at  thy  fide, 
Content  to  fill  a  little  space, 

If  Thou  be  glorified. 

And  if  some  things  I  do  not  afk 

In  my  cup  of  blefling  be, 
I  would  have  my  spirit  fill'd  the  more 

With  grateful  love  to  Thee — 
And  careful,  less  to  serve  Thee  much, 

Than  to  please  Thee  perfectly. 

There  are  briars  besetting  every  path, 

Which  call  for  patient  care  ; 
There  is  a  cross  in  every  lot, 

And  an  earned:  need  for  prayer  ; 
But  a  lowly  heart  that  leans  on  Thee 

Is  happy  anywhere. 

In  a  service  which  thy  love  appoints, 

There  are  no  bonds  for  me  ; 
For  my  secret  heart  is  taught  "the  truth" 

That  makes  thy  children  "  free  ;  " 
And  a  life  of  self-renouncing  love, 

Is  a  life  of  liberty. 


Miscellaneous .  2  3 


IN  having  all  things  and  not  Thee,  what  have  I  : 
Not  having  Thee,  what  have  my  labors  got  ? 
Let  me  enjoy  but  Thee,  what  further  crave  I  ? 

And  having  Thee  alone  what  have  I  not  ? 
I   wifh  not  sea  nor  land  ;  nor  would  I   be 
PoiTefled  of  heaven,  heaven  unpofleiTed   of  Thee. 

Great  God  !   Thou  art  the  flowing  spring  of  light  ; 

Enrich   mine  eyes  with  thy  refulgent  ray  ; 
Thou  art  my  path  ;  direct  my  fteps  aright, 

I   have  no  other  light,  no  other  way  ; 
I'll  truft  my  God,  and  Him  alone  pursue  : 
His  law  fhall  be  my  path,  his  heavenly  light  my  clue. 

Quarks. 


EXCELLENCY   OF   CHRIST. 

E  is  a  path,  if  any  be  mifled  ; 
He  is  a  robe,  if  any  naked  be"; 
If  any  chance  to  hunger,   He  is  bread  ; 
If  any  be  a  bondman,  He  is  free  ; 
If  any  be  but  weak,  how  fTrong  is   He  ! 
To  dead  men  life  He  is,  to  fick  men  health  ; 
To  blind  men  fight,  and  to  the  needy  wealth  ; 
A  pleasure  without  loss,  a  treasure  without  flealth. 

Giles   Fletcher. 


H 


232 


Miscellaneous. 


HARK  !   my  soul,  how  every  thing 
Strives   to  serve  our  beauteous  King  ; 
Each   a  double  tribute  pays, 
Sings  its  part,  and  then  obeys. 

Nature's  chief  and  sweeteft  choir, 
Him  with   cheerful  notes  admire  ; 
Chanting  every  day  their  lauds, 
While  the  grove  their  song  applauds. 

Though  their  voices  lower  be, 
Streams   have  too  their  melody  ; 
Night  and  day  they  warbling  run, 
Never  pause,  but  ftill  fing  on. 

All  the  flowers  that  gild  the  spring, 
Hither  their  ftill  mufic  bring  ; 
If  heaven  bless  them,  thankful,  they 
Smell  more  sweet,  and  look   more   gay. 

Only  we  can  scarce  afford, 
This   fhort  office  to  our  Lord  ; 
We,  on  whom  his  bounty  flows, 
All  things  gives,  and  nothing  owes. 


Wake,  foi^  fhame,  my  flothful  heart, 
Wake,  and  gladly  fing  thy  part  : 


Miscellaneous. 


233 


Learn  of  birds  and   springs  and   flowers, 
How  to  use  thy  noble  powers. 

Call  all  nature  to  thy  aid, 
Since  'twas  He  all  nature  made  ; 
Join  In  one  eternal  song 
Who  to  one  God  all  belong. 


CALM,   PEACE,   AND   LIGHT. 

THERE  is  a  Calm  the  Poor  in  Spirit  know, 
That  softens  sorrow,  and  that  sweetens  woe  ; 
There  is  a  Peace  that  dwells  within  the  breaft, 
When  all  without  is  ftormy  and  diftreft  ; 
There  is  a  Light  that  gilds  the  darkeft  hour, 
When  dangers  thicken  and  when  tempefts  lower,  . 
That  calm,  to  faith  and  hope  and  love  is  given, 
That  peace  remains  when  all  befide  is  riven, 
That  light  mines  down  to  man  direcl:  from  Heaven, 


234 


Miscellaneous. 


SONNET. 

"O  speak  good  of  the  Lord,  all  ye  works  of  his,  in  all  places  of  his 
dominions." — Psalm  103  :  22. 

ANSWER,  with  all  thy  pulses,  throb  and   speak, 
Thou  tender,   palpitating  heart  of  God  ! 
Through  earth,  through  air,  and  caves  of  ocean  broad, 
All  thronged  with   myriad  beings,  ftrong  or  weak 
In  terror,  or  deep  love  !  Flufh  on  the  cheek 
Of  morn,  breathe  sweet  from   evening's  dewy  sod  ! 
Tremble  in  mufic,  'mid  the  choral  ode 
That  from  the  soft  vale  to  the  mountain  peak 
Whispers  or  thunders  ! — Art  Thou  cold,  or  dead, 
Or  vengeful  ? — Hum  !   a  holy  filence  reigns  : 
That  our  own  heart,  ftilling  our  throbbing  veins, 
And  only  with  its  own  aflurance  fed, 
May  be  itself  thy  answer  and  abode, 
O   tender,  palpitating  heart  of  God  ! 

Chauncy   Hare   Tcwn/hend. 


'■•  .-■■' 


Miscellaneous. 


235 


SONNET. 


"  All  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God."— 
Romans  S  :   28. 

OH,  what  a  load  of  druggie   and  diftress 
Falls  off  before  the  Cross  !  The  feverifh  care  ; 
The  wifh  that  we  were  other  than  we  are  ; 
The  nek  regrets  \  the  yearnings  numberless  ; 
The  thought,  "  this  might  have  been,"  so  apt  to  press 
On  the  reluctant  soul  ;  even  paft  despair, 
Paft  fin  itself,— all— all  is  turned  to  fair 
Ay,  to  a  scheme  of  ordered  happiness, 
So  soon  as  we  love  God,  or  rather  know 
That  God  loves  us  !   .   .   .   Accepting  the  great  pledge 
Of  his  concern  for  all  our  wants  and  woe, 
We   cease  to  tremble  upon  danger's  edge  ; 
While  varying  troubles  form  and  burft  anew, 
Safe  in  a  Father's  arms  we  smile  as  infants  do! 

Chauncy  Hare   Townjhend. 


\ 


&?3 


236  Miscellaneous. 


SONNET. 

"  What  is  truth  ?  "— St.  Jcbn  18  :  38. 

OH,  how  we  pine  for  truth !  for  something  more 
Than  hufks  of  learning !     How  did  ancient  Greece 
Hang  on  the  virtuous  lips  of  Socrates, 
Turning  from  words  more  sounding  to  adore 
The  wisdom  that  sent  souls  to  their  own  ftore 
For  knowledge.      So  let  us  our  hearts  release  ! 
'Tis  time  the  jargon  of  the  schools  mould  cease — 
Errors  that  rot  Theology's  deep  core, 
Lying  at  the  base  of  things.     Down,  down  muft  fall 
The  glittering  edifice,  cemented  much 
With  blood,  yet  baseless.     At  Truth's  fimple  touch 

All  the  vain  fabric  will  be  mattered  all ! 

But  not  the  Bible!     Nature  there  is  ftored, 
And  God !     Eternal  is  the  Saviour's  Word  ! 

Chauncy  Hare   Townjhend. 


Miscellaneous.  237 


PRAYER. 

LORD,  what  a  change  within  us  one  fhort  hour 
Spent  in  thy  presence  will  avail  to  make  ! 
What  heavy  burdens   from  our  bosoms  take  ! 

What  parched  grounds  refrem,  as  with  a  mower ! 

We  kneel,  and  all  around  us  seems  to  lower  ; 
We  rise,  and  all,  the  diftant  and  the  near, 
Stands   forth  in  sunny  outline,  brave  and  clear  ; 

We  kneel,  how  weak  !   we  rise,  how  full  of  power  ! 

Why,  therefore,  mould  we  do  ourselves  this  wrong, 

Or  others — that  we  are  not  always  ftrong — 

That  we  are  ever  overborne  with   care- 
That  we  mould  ever  weak  or  heartless  be, 

Anxious  or  troubled — when  with  us  is  prayer, 

And  joy,  and  ftrength,  and  courage  are  with    Thee? 

Trench. 


238  Miscellaneous. 


ACCESS   TO   GOD    EVERY    WHERE. 

THEY  who  seek  the  throne  of  grace, 
Find  that  throne  in  every  place  ; 
If  we  live  a  life  of  prayer, 
God  is  present  every  where. 

In  our  fickness  or  our  health, 
In  our  want  or  in  our  wealth, 
If  we  look  to  God  in  prayer, 
God  is  present  every  where. 

When  our  earthly  comforts  fail, 
When  the  foes  of  life  prevail, 
'Tis  the  time  for  earneft  prayer  ;— 
God  is  present  every  where. 

Then,  my  soul,  in  every  ftrait 
To  thy  Father  come  and  wait ; 
He  will  answer  every  prayer 
God  is  present  every  where. 

Anon. 


Miscellaneous. 


239 


PERFECT    IN    LOVE. 

"Whoso  feareth  is  not  made  perfect  in  love.     Perfect  love  cafteth 
out  fear." — 1  John  4:18. 

"  pERFECT  in  love! "— Lord,  can  it  be, 

A      Amidft  this  ftate  of  doubt  and  fin  ? 
While  foes  so  thick  without,   I   see, 
With  weakness,  pain,  disease  within  : 
Can  perfect  love  inhabit  here, 
And  ftrong  in  faith,  extinguifh  fear  ? 

O,  Lord  !  amidft  this  mental  night, 

Amidft  the  clouds  of  dark  dismay, 
Arise  !   arise  !   fhed   forth   thy  light, 
And  kindle  love's  meridian  day. 
My  Saviour  God  to  me  appear, 
So  love  fhall  triumph  over  fear. 


240  Miscellaneous. 


THE  CHILDREN'S  DESIRE. 

I   THINK  when  I  read  the  sweet  ftory  of  old, 
How  when  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 
He  once  called  little  children  as  lambs  to  his  fold — 

I  mould  like  to  have  been  with  them  then. 
I  wifh  that  his  hands  had  been   placed  on  my  head 

That  his  arms  had  been  thrown  around   me  ; 
And  that  I   might  have  seen  his  kind  look,  when   He  said, 
tc  Let  the  little  ones  come   unto   me." 

Yet  (till  to   his   footftool  in   faith   I   may  go, 

And  there  afk  for  a  fhare  of  his  love  ; 
And  I   know  if  I  earneftly  seek  Him  below, 

I  fhall  see  Him  and  hear  Him  above — 
In  that  beautiful  place,   He   is  gone  to  prepare, 

For  all  those  who  are  warned  and  forgiven  ; 
And  many  dear  children  are  gathering  there, 

"  For  of  such   is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Jnony?nous. 


_-v_ 


Miscellaneous. 


241 


LIFE. 


TT   is  not  life  upon  thy  gifts  to  live, 
-*-    But,  to  grow  fixed  with   deeper  roots  in   Thee  ; 
And  when  the  sun  and  fhower  their  bounties  give, 
To  send  out  thick-leaved  limbs  ;   a  fruitful  tree, 
Whose  green  head  meets  the  eye  for  many  a  mile, 
Whose  mofT-grown  arms  their  rigid  branches  rear, 
And  full-faced  fruits  their  blufhing  welcome  smile 
As  to  its  goodly  made  our  feet  draw  near ; 
Who  taftes  its  gifts  mail  never  hunger  more, 
For  tis  the  Father  spreads  the  pure  repaft, 
Who,  while  we  eat,   renews  the  ready  ftore, 
Which  at  his  bounteous  board  muft  ever  laft  ; 
For  none  the  bridegroom's  supper  fhall  attend, 
Who  will  not  hear  and  make  his  word  their  friend. 

Jones  Very. 


242 


Miscellaneous. 


FOR    DIVINE   STRENGTH. 


FATHER,  in  thy  myfterious  presence  kneeling, 
Fain  would  our  souls  feel  all  thy  kindling  love, 
For  we  are  weak,   and  need  some  deep  revealing 
Of  Truft,  and  Strength,  and  Calmness,  from  above. 

Lord,  we  have  wandered  forth  through  doubt  and  sorrow, 
And  Thou  haft  made  each  ftep  an  onward  one  ; 

And  we  will  ever  truft  each  unknown  morrow, — 
Thou  wilt  suftain  us  till  its  work  is  done. 

In  the  heart's  depths,  a  peace  serene  and  holy 
Abides,  and  when  pain  seems  to  have  her  will, 

Or  we  despair, — O   may  that  peace  rise  (lowly, 
Stronger  than  agony,  and  we  be  ftill. 

Now,  Father,  now,  in  thy  dear  presence  kneeling, 
Our  spirits  yearn  to  feel  thy  kindling  love  : 

Now  make  us  ftrong,  we  need  thy  deep  revealing 
Of  Truft,  and  Strength,  and  Calmness,  from  above. 

S.   Johnson. 


Miicellc 


243 


THE    CONFLICT    OF    LIFE. 

ONWARD,  Chriftian,  though  the  region 
Where  thou  art  be  drear  and  lone  : 
God   hath  set  a  guardian  legion 
Very  near  thee, — press  thou  on  ! 

Liften,  Chriftian,  their  Hosanna 

Rolleth  o'er  thee, — "  God  is  Love." 

Write  upon  thy  red-cross  banner, 
"  Upward  ever, — heaven's  above." 

By  the  thorn-road,  and  none  other, 

Is  the  mount  of  vifion  won  ; 
Tread  it  without  fhrinking,  brother! 

Jesus  trod  it, — press  thou  on  ! 

By  thy  truftful,  calm  endeavor, 
Guiding,  cheering,  like  the  sun, 

Earth-bound  hearts  thou  fhalt  deliver : 
O,  for  their  sake,  press  thou  on ! 


Be  this  world  the  wiser,  ftronger, 
For  thy  life  of  pain  and  peace  •, 

While  it  needs  thee,  O  no  longer 
Pray  thou  for  thy  quick  release  ; 


2A4.  Miscellaneous. 


244 


Pray  thou,   Chriftian,  daily,  rather, 

That  thou  be  a  faithful  son; 
By  the  prayer  of  Jesus, — "  Father, 

Not  my  will,  but  thine,  be  done  !  " 

S.   Johnson. 


SPIRITUAL   NEEDS. 

I   WANT  the  spirit  of  power  within, 
Of  love,  and  of  a  healthful  mind  : 
Of  power  to  conquer  every  fin, 
Of  love  to  God  and  all  mankind  ; 
Of  health  that  pain  and  death  defies, 
Moft  vigorous  when  the  body  dies. 

O,  that  the  Comforter  would  come, 
Nor  vifit  as  a  tranfient  guefl, 
But  fix  in  me  his  conftant  home, 
And  keep  pofTeffion  of  my  breaft  ; 
And  make  my  soul  his  loved  abode, 
The  temple  of  indwelling  God  ! 

C.    Wesley. 


Miscellaneous. 


245 


JESUS,  the  only  thought  of  thee 
With  sweetness  fills  my  breaft, 
But  sweeter  far  it  is  to  see, 
And  on  thy  beauty  feaft. 
No  sound,  no  harmony  so  gay, 

Can  art  of  mufic  frame, 
No  thought  can  reach,  no  words  can  say 
The  sweets  of  thy  bleft  name. 

Jesus,  our  hope  when  we  repent, 

Sweet  source  of  all  our  grace  ; 
Sole  comfort  in  our  banifhment 

O   what  when   face  to  face  ! 
Jesus  !   that  name  inspires  my   mind 

With  springs  of  life  and  light  ; 
More  than  I  afk  in  thee  I  find, 

And  languifh  in  delight. 


No  art  nor  eloquence  of  man 

Can  tell  the  joys  of  love  ; 
Spirits  alone  can   underftand 

What  they  in  Jesus  prove. 
Thee  then  I'll  seek,  retired  apart, 

From  world   and  bufiness  free 
When  these  mail  knock,  I'll  fhut  my  heart, 

And  keep  it  all  for  thee. 


24.6  Miscellaneous. 


Before  the   morning  light  I'll  come, 

With  Magdalen,  to  find, 
In  fighs  and  tears,  my  Jesus'  tomb, 

And  there  refrefh  my  mind. 
My  tears   upon  his  grave  (hall  flow, 

My   fighs  the  garden   fill, 
Then  at  his  feet  myself  I'll  throw, 

And  there  I'll  seek  his  will. 


OTHOU  whose  wise  paternal  Love 
Hath  caft  my  active  vigor  down, 
Thy  choice  I  thankfully  approve, 

And  proftrate  at  thy  gracious  throne 
I   offer  up  my  life's  remains, 

I  choose  the  ftate  my  God  ordains. 

Caft  as  a  broken  veflel  by, 

Thy  will  I  can  no  longer  do, 
But  while  a  daily  death  I  die, 

Thy  power  I  can  in  weakness  (how 
My  patience  fhall  thy  glory  raise 

My  ftedfaft  woe  proclaim  thy  praise. 

Steele. 


Miscellaneous, 


247 


ADORATION. 

I   LOVE  my  God,  but  with  no  love  of  mine, 
For  I   have  none  to  give  ; 
I  love  thee,  Lord  ;   but  all  the  love  is  thine, 

For  by  thy  life  I  live. 
I  am  as  nothing,  and  rejoice  to  be 
Emptied,  and  loft,  and  swallowed   up  in  thee. 

Thou,  Lord,  alone,  art  all  thy  children  need, 

And  there  is  none  befide  ; 
From  Thee  the  ftreams  of  blefTedness  proceed, 

In  Thee  the  bleft  abide, — 
Fountain  of  life,  and  all-abounding  grace, 
Our  source,  our  centre,  and  our  dwelling-place. 

Madame  Guy  on. 


FRIEND   SORROW. 


DO  not  cheat  thy  heart,  and  tell  her 
"  Grief  will  pass  away — 
"  Hope  for  fairer  times  in  future, 
"  And  forget  to-day." 


248  Miscellaneous. 


Tell  her,  if  you  will,  that  Sorrow- 
Need  not  come  in  vain — 

Tell  her,  that  the  lefTon  taught  her 
Far  outweighs  the  pain. 

Cheat  her  not  with  the  old  comfort 

"  Soon  fhe  will  forget." 
Bitter  truth,  alas  !  but  matter 

Rather  for  regret. 
Bid  her  not  seek  other  pleasures, 

Turn  to  other  things. 
But  rather  nurse  her  caged  Sorrow 

Till  the  captive  fings. 

Rather  bid  her  go  forth  bravely, 

And  the  ftranger  greet  ; 
Not  as  foe,  with  fhield  and  buckler, 

But  as  dear  friends  meet. 
Bid  her  with  a  ftrong  clasp  hold  her 

By  her  dufky  wings  : 
And  (he'll  whisper  low  and  gently, 

Bleflings  that  me  brings. 

A.  A.  Procter. 


Miscellaneous. 


249 


LABOR  AND  REST. 
"  Two  hands  upon  the  breaft,  and  labor  is  paft." — Russian  Proverb. 

«  'HpWO   hands  upon  the  breaft, 

-1    And  labor's  done  : 
Two  pale  feet  crofTed   in  reft — 

The  race  is  won  : 
Two  eyes  with  coin-weights  (hut, 

And  all  tears  cease  : 
Two  lips  where  grief  is  mute 
And  wrath  at  peace." 
So  pray  we  oftentimes,  mourning  our  lot  ; 
God  in  his  kindness  answereth  not. 

"  Two  hands  to  work  addreft 

Aye  for  his  praise  : 
Two  feet  that  never  reft 

Walking  his  ways  : 
Two  eyes  that  look  above 
Still,  through  all  tears  : 
Two  lips  that  breathe  but  love, 
Nevermore  fears." 
So  cry  we  afterwards,  low  at  our  knees  : 
Pardon  those  erring  prayers  !    Father,  hear  these  ! 

D.  M.  Muloch, 


250  Miscellaneous . 


GOD    IS    LOVE. 

EARTH,  with  her  ten  thousand  flowers, 
Air,  with  all  its  beams  and   mowers, 
All  around,  and  all  above, 
Hath  this  record,  "  God  is  love." 

Sounds  among  the  vales  and  hills, 
In  the  woods,  and  by  the  rills, 
All  these  songs,  beneath,  above, 
Have  one  burthen,  "  God  is  love." 

All  the  charities  that  ftart 
From  the  fountains  of  the  heart, 
These  are  voices  from  above, 
Sweetly  whispering,  "  God   is  love." 

Earth  with  her  ten  thousand  flowers, 
Air,  with  all  its  beams  and  mowers, 
All  are  voices  from  above, 
Loudly  sounding,  "  God  is  love.M 


Miscellaneous. 


25r 


COULD'ST   THOU    NOT   WATCH   ONE    HOUR? 

THY  night  is  dark — behold  the  fhade  was  deeper 
In  the  old  garden  of  Gethsemane, 
When  that  calm   voice  awoke  the  weary   fleeper, 

— Could'ft  thou  not  watch  one  hour  alone  with  me  ? 

O,  thou  so  weary  of  thy  self-denials, 

And  so  impatient  of  thy  little  cross, 
Is  it  so  hard  to  bear  thy  daily  trials, 

To  count  all  earthly  things  a  gainful  loss  ? 

What  if  thou  always  suffer  tribulation, 

And  if  thy  Chriftian   warfare  never  cease  ; 

The  gaining  of  the  quiet  habitation, 
Shall  gather  thee  to  everlafting  peace. 

But  here  we  all  muft  suffer,  walking  lonely 
The  path  that  Jesus  once  himself  hath  gone  ; 

Watch  thou  in  patience  through   this   hour  only, 
This  one  dark  hour  before  the  eternal  dawn. 


The  captive's  oar  may  pause   upon   the  galley, 
The  soldier  fleep  beneath   his  plumed  creft, 

And   peace  may  fold  her  wing  o'er  hill  and  valley, 
But  thou,   O   Chriftian,  muft  not  take  thy  reft. 


252  Mh  cellaneom. 


Thou  muft  walk  on,  however  man  upbraid  thee, 
With   Him  who  trod   the   wine-press  all  alone  ; 

Thou  wilt  not  find  one  human  hand  to  aid  thee, 
One  human  soul,  to  comprehend  thine  own. 

Heed  not  the  images   forever  thronging 

From  out  the   foregone  life  thou  liveft  no  more, 

Faint-hearted  mariner,   ftill  art  thou  longing 
For  the  dim  line  of  the  receding  more. 

Wilt  thou   find   reft  of  soul  in  thy  returning 
To  that  old   path   thou   haft  so  vainly  trod  ? 

Haft  thou   forgotten  all  thy  weary  yearning 
To  walk  among  the  children  of  thy  God  ? 

Faithful  and  fteadfaft  in  their  consecration, 
Living  by  that  high   faith   to  thee  so  dim, 

Declaring  before  God  their  dedication, 

So  far  from  thee,  because  so  near  to  him. 

Can'ft  thou  forget  thy  Chriftian  superscription — 
"  Behold  we  count  them  happy  which   endure  ?  " 

What  treasure  would'ft  thou  in  the  land   Egyptian, 
Repass  the  ftormy  water  to  secure? 

And  wilt  thou  yield  thy  sure  and  glorious  promise 
For  the  poor  fleeting  joys  earth   can  afford  ? 

No  hand   can  take  away  the   treasure  from   us 
That  refts  within  the   keeping  of  the  Lord. 


Miscellaneous. 


253 


Poor  wandering  soul — I   know  that  thou   art  seeking 
Some  eafler  way,  as  all  have  sought  before 

To  filence  the  reproachful  inward   speaking — 
Some  landward  path  unto  an   ifland  fhore  ! 

The  cross   is  heavy  in  thy  human  measure, 
The  way  too  narrow  for  thine  inward  pride, 

Thou  can'ft  not  lay  thine  intellectual  treasure 
At  the  low  footftool  of  the  Crucified. 

O,  that  thy  faithless  soul,  one  hour  only 

Would  comprehend  the  Chriftian's  perfect  life, 

Despised  with  Jesus,  sorrowful  and  lonely, 
Yet  calmly  looking  upward  in  its  ftrife. 

For  poverty  and  self-renunciation, 

Their  Father  yieldeth  back  a  thousand   fold  ; 
In  the  calm  ftillness  of  regeneration, 

Cometh  a  joy  they  never  knew  of  old. 

In  meek  obedience  to  the  heavenly  Teacher, 
Thy  weary  soul  can  only  find  its  peace, 

Seeking  no  aid  from  any  human  creature ; 
Looking  to  God  alone  for  his   release. 


And  He  will  come  in  his  own  time  and  power, 
To  set  his  earneft-hearted  children  free  ; 

Watch  only  through  this  dark  and  painful  hour 
And  the  bright  morning  yet  will  break  for  thee. 


254  Miscella  n  eous , 


THE   SACRIFICE. 


o 


ALL  ye  who  pass  by,  whose  eyes  and  mind 
To  worldly  things  are  (harp,  but  to  me  blind,- 
To  me,  who  took  eyes  that  I   might  you   find  ; — 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 


Mine  own  apoftle,  who  the  bag  did  bear, 
Though  he  had  all  I  had,  did  not  forbear 
To  sell  me  also,  and  to  put  me  there. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Judas,  doft  thou  betray  me  with  a  kiss  ? 
Can'ft  thou   find  hell  about  my  lips,  and  miss 
Of  life,  juft  at  the  gates  of  life  and  bliss  ? 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

See,  they  lay  hold  on  me  ;  not  with  the  hands 
Of  faith,  but  fury.      Yet,  at  their  commands, 
I  suffer  binding,  who  have  loosed  their  bands. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine? 

All  my  disciples  flee  ;   fear  put  a  bar 
Betwixt  my  friends  and  me.     They  leave  that  Star 
That  brought  wise  men  out  of  the  Eaft  from  far. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 


Miscellaneous,  255 


Ah  !    how  they  scourge  me  !    yet   my  tenderness 
Doubles  each   lafh.      And  yet,  their  bitterness 
Winds   up   my  grief  to  a  myfteriousness. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Then  on  my  head  a  crown  of  thorns  I   wear  ; 
For  these  are  all  the  grapes  Zion  doth   bear, 
Though   I   my  vine  planted  and   watered  there. 

Was  ever  grief  like   mine  ? 

So  fits  the  eatth's  great  curse,  in  Adam's   fall, 
Upon  my  head  ;  so  I  remove   it  all 
From  th'  earth  unto  my  brows,  and  bear  the  thrall 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

The  soldiers  also  spit  upon  that  face 
Which  angels  did  defire  to  have  the  grace, 
And  prophets,  once,  to  see,  but  found  no  place. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

But,  O  my  God!  my  God!  why  leaveft  thou  me, 
Thy  Son,  in  whom  thou  doft  delight  to  be  ? 

My  God  !    My  God  ! 

Never  was  grief  like  mine  ! 

Shame  tears  my  soul,  my  body  many  a  wound ; — 
Sharp  nails  pierce  this,  but  fharper  that  confound  ; 
Reproaches,  which  are  free  while  I  am  bound. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 


256 


Miscellaneous. 


Now  heal  thyself \   Physician  !   now  come  down  ! 

Alas  !    I   did  so,  when  I  left  my  crown, 

And   Father's   smile,   for  you  to  feel   his   frown. 

Was  ever  grief  like   mine  ? 

Betwixt  two  thieves  I  spend  my  utmoft  breath, 

As  he  that  for  some  robbery  suffereth. 

Alas  !   what  have  I   ftolen  from  you  ?      Death. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

They  gave  me  vinegar  mingled  with   gall, — 

But  more  with   malice.      Yet,  when  they  did  call, 

With   manna,  angels'   food,  I   fed  them  all. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

Nay,  after  death,  their   spite  (hall   further  go  ; 

For  they  will  pierce  my  side,  I  full  well  know  j — 

That,  as  fin  came,  so  sacraments    might  flow. 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 

But  now  I  die.     Now  all  is  finifhed — 

My  woe,  man's  weal:  and  now  I  bow  my  head. 

Only  let  others  say,  when  I  am  dead, 

Never  was  grief  like  mine  ! 

George   Herbert. 


Miscellaneous. 


THE   CHARMER. 


"  \X/E  need  some  Charmer,  for  our  hearts  are  sore 

▼  *    With  longings   for  the  things  that  may  not  be — 
Faint  for  the  friends  that  fhall  return  no  more 
Dark  with  diftruft,  or  wrung  with  agony. 

"  What  is  this  life  ?     And   what  to  us  is   Death  ? 

Whence  came  we  ?   whither  go  ?     And  where  are  those 
Who  in  a  moment  ftricken  from  our  fide 

Paired  to  that  land  of  madow  and   repose. 

"  Are  they  all  duft  ?  and  duft  muft  we  become  ? 

Or  are  they  living  in   some  unknown  clime  ? 
Shall  we  regain  them  in  that  far-off  home, 

And  live  anew  beyond  the  waves  of  time  ? 

u  Oh   man  divine  ! — on  thee  our  souls  have  hung, 
Thou  wert  our  teacher  in  these  queftions  high  ; 

But  ah  !   this  day  divides  thee  from  our  fide, 
And   veils  in  duft  thy  kindly  guiding  eye." 


So  spake  the  youth  of  Athens,  weeping  round 

When  Socrates  lay  calmly  down  to  die — 

So  spake  the   Sage,   prophetic  of  the  hour 

When  Earth's  fair  Morning  Star  mould  rise  on  high. 


258  Miscellaneous. 


They  found  him  not,  those  youths  of  soul  divine 
Long  seeking,  wandering,   watching  on  life's   fhore  : 

Reasoning,  aspiring,  yearning  for  the  lisiht, 

Death   came  and   found   them — doubting  as   before. 

But  years  pafled  on — and  lo  !  the  Charmer  came 
Pure,  filent,  sweet  as  comes  the  filver  dew — 

And   the  world  knew  him  not — he  walked  alone 
Encircled  only  by  his  trufling  few. 

Like  the  Athenian  Sage — rejected,  scorned, 

Betrayed,  condemned,   his  day  of  doom   drew  nigh, 

He  drew   his   faithful   few   more  closely  round, 
And  told  them  that  His  hour  was  come  to  die. 

"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,"  then  He  said  : 
My   Father's  house  has  manfions  large  and  fair  ; 

I  go  before  you  to  prepare  your  place  ; 

I  will  return  to  take  you  with  me  there. — 

And  fince  that  hour  the  awful  foe  is  charmed, 

And  life  and  death  are  glorified  and  fair  : 
Whither  He  went  we  know— the  way  we  know, 
And  with  firm  ftep  press  on  to  meet  Him  there. 

H.   B.   Stowe. 


Miscellaneous.  259 


THE-  CALM   OF   THE   SOUL. 

WHEN  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean, 
And  billows  wild  contend  with  angry  roar, 
'Tis  said,  far  down  beneath  the  wild  commotion, 
That  peaceful  ftillness  reigneth,  evermore. 

Far,  far  beneath,  the  noise  of  tempefts  dieth, 
And  filver  waves  chime  ever  peacefully, 

And  no  rude  ftorm,  how  fierce  soe'er  it  flieth, 
Difturbs  the  Sabbath  of  that  deeper  sea. 

So  to  the  heart  that  knows  thy  love,  O   Pureft  ! 

There  is  a  temple,  sacred  evermore, 
And  all  the  babble  of  life's  angry  voices, 

Dies  in  hufhed  ftillness,  at  its  peaceful  door. 

Far,  far  away,  the  roar  of  paffion  dieth, 

And  loving  thoughts  rise  calm  and  peacefully, 

And  no  rude  ftorm,  how  fierce  soe'er  it  flieth, 
Difturbs  the  soul  that  dwells,  O  Lord,  in  thee. 

O  reft  of  refts  !   O  peace,  serene,  eternal  ! 

Thou  ever  liveft,  and  thou  changeft  never  •> 
And  in  the  secret  of  thy  presence  dwelleth 

Fulness  of  joy,  forever  and  forever. 

H.   B.   Stowe. 


260  Miscellaneous. 


WHEN    I    AWAKE   I    AM   STILL  WITH    THEE. 

STILL,  ftill  with  Thee — when  purple  morning  breaketh, 
When  the  bird  walceth,  and  the  fhadows   flee  ; 
Fairer  than  morning,  lovelier  than  the  daylight, 
Dawns  the  sweet  consciousness,  /  am  with    Ihee. 

Alone  with  Thee — amid  the   myftic  fhadows, 
The  solemn  hufh  of  nature  newly  born  j 

Alone  with  Thee  in  breathless  adoration, 

In  the  calm  dew  and  frefhness  of  the  morn. 

As  in  the  dawning  o'er  the  waveless  ocean, 
The  image  of  the  morning  ftar  doth  reft, 

So  in  this  ftillness,  Thou  beholdeft  only 
Thine  image  in  the  waters  of  my  breaft. 

Still,  ftill  with  Thee!   as  to  each  new-born  morning 
A  frefh  and  solemn  splendor  ftill  is  given, 

So  doth  this  bleffed  consciousness  awaking, 

Breathe,  each  day,  nearness  unto  Thee  and   Heaven. 

When  finks  the  soul,  subdued  by  toil,  to  number, 
Its  clofing  eye  looks  up  to  Thee  in  prayer  ; 

Sweet  the  repose  beneath  thy  wings  o'erfhading 
But  sweeter  ftill,  to  wake  and  find  Thee  there. 


Miscellaneous. 


261 


So  ftiall  it  be  at  laft,  in  that  bright  morning, 
When  the  soul  waketh,  and  life's  fhadows  flee  ; 

Oh  !   in  that  hour,  fairer  than  daylight  dawning, 
Shall  rise  the  glorious  thought,   /  a?n  with    Thee  ! 


H.   B.   Stowe. 


ORDINATION   HYMN. 

CHRIST  to  the  young  man  said  :  "  Yet  one  thing  more  ; 
If  thou  would'ft  perfect  be, 
Sell  all  thou  haft  and  give  it  to  the  poor, 
And  come  and  follow  me  !  " 

Within  this  temple  Chrift  again,  unseen, 

Those  sacred  words  hath  said, 
And  his  invifible  hands  to-day  have  been 

Laid  on  a  young  man's  head. 

And  evermore  befide  him  on  his  way 

The  unseen  Chrift  fhall  move, 
That  he  may  lean  upon  his  arm  and  say, 

"  Doft  thou,  dear  Lord,  approve  ?  " 


Befide  him  at  the  marriage  feaft  fhall  be, 
To  make  the  scene  more  fair  ; 

Befide  him  in  the  dark  Gethsemane 
Of  pain  and   midnight  prayer. 


262 


Miscellaneous. 


O   holy  truft  !   O   endless  sense  of  reft  ! 

Like  the  beloved  John 
To  lay  his  head  upon  the  Saviour's  breaft, 

And  thus  to  journey  on  ! 

Longfellow. 


►•#«< 


HYMN    FOR   LENT. 

OWEEP  for  them  who  never  knew 
The  mother  of  our  love, 
And  fried  thy  tears  for  orphan  ones, 

Whom  angels  mourn  above  ; 
The  wandering  fheep— the  ftraying  lambs, 

When  wolves  were  on  the  wold, 
That  left  our  Shepherd's  little  flock, 
And  ventured  from  his  fold. 

Nay,  blame  them  not!   for  them,  the  Lord 

Hath  loved  as  well  as  you  : 
But  O,  like  Jesus,  pray  for  them 

Who  know  not  what  they  do  : 
O  plead  as  once  the  Saviour  did, 

That  we  may  all  be  one, 
That  so  the  cruel  world  may  know 

The  Father  sent  the  Son. 


MiscclL 


263 


O  let  thy  Lenten  litanies 

Be  full  of  prayer  for  them ! 
O  go  ye  to  the  scattered   fheep 

Of  Israel's  parent   item  ! 
O  keep  thy  fart  for  Chriftendom  ! 

For  Christ's  dear  body  mourn  ; 
And  weave  again  the  seamless  robe, 

That  faithless  friends  have  torn. 

Ye  love  your  dear  home-feftivals, 

With  every  month  entwined  ; 
O  weep  for  them  whose  sullen  hearths 

No  Chriftmas  garlands  bind  ! 
Those  Iceland  regions  of  the  faith 

No  changing  seasons  cheer, 
While  our  sweet  paths  drop  fruitfulness, 

Through  all  the  joyous  year. 

What  though  some  borealis-beams 

On  even  them  may  flare  ; 
Pray  God  the  sunlight  of  his  love 

May  rise    serenely  there  ! 
For  flafhy  gleams,  O  plead  the  Lord 

To  give  his  daily  ray  ! 
With  heavenly  light  at  morn  and  eve 

To  thaw  their  wintry  way. 


O  weep  for  those,  on  whom  the  Lord 
While  here  below  did  weep, 


264  Miscellaneous, 


Left  grievous  wolves  fhould  enter  in, 

Not  sparing  of  his   fheep  ; 
And  eat  thy  bitter  herbs  awhile, 

That  when  our  f'eaft  is  spread, 
These  too — that  gather  up  the  crumbs, 

May  eat  the  children's  bread. 

A.    C.    Coxe. 


•  *♦•••• 


THE    BLESSING  AFTER   SERVICE. 

THE   peace  which  God  beftows, 
Through  him  who  died  and  rose, 
The  peace  the  Father  giveth  through  the  Son, 
Be  known  in  every  mind, 
The  broken  heart  to  bind, 
And  bless  each  traveller  as  he  journeys  on. 

Ye  who  have  known  to  weep, 

Where  your  beloved  deep, 
Ye  who  have  raised  the  deep,  the  bitter  cry, 

God's  bleffing  be  as  balm, 

The  fevered  soul  to  calm, 
And  wondrous  peace  the  troubled  mind  supply. 


Young  man,  whose  cheek  is  bright 
With  nature's  warmeft  light, 


L. 


Miscellaneous.  265 


While  youth   and   health  thy   veins   with   rapture  swell 

Let  the  remembrance  be 

Of  thy  God  bleft  to  thee, 
Peace  paffing  underftanding  guard  thee  well. 

Parents,  whose  thoughts  afar, 

Turn  where  your  children  are, 
In  their  ftill  graves,  or  beneath   foreign  fkies,— 

This  hour,  God's  bleiling  come 

Cheer  the  deserted  home, 
And   peace,  with  dove-like  wings,  around  you  rise. 

Ere  this  week's  ftrife  begin, 

The  war  without,  within, 
The  God  of  Love,  with  spirit  and  with  power, 

Now  on  each  bended  head, 

His  wondrous  bleffing  ftied, 
And  keep  you  all  through  every  troubled  hour. 


266  Miscellaneous. 


STRENGTH. 

^To  an  Invalid.) 

"  \A/HEN  l  am  weak'  Vm  ftron^" 

▼  '       The  great  Apoftle  cried. 
The  ftrength  that  did  not  to  the  earth  belong, 
The  might  of  Heaven  supplied. 

"  When  I  am  weak,  I'm  ftrong," 
Blind   Milton  caught  that  (train, 
And  flung  its  victory  o'er  the  ills  that  throng 
Round  Age,  and  Want,  and  Pain. 

"  When  I  am  weak,  I'm  ftrong," 
Each  Chriftian  heart  repeats  ; 
These  words  will  tune  its  feebleft  breath  to  song, 
And  fire  its  languid  beats. 

O   Holy  Strength  !   whose  ground 
Is  in  the  heavenly  land  ; 
And  whose  supporting  help  alone  is   found 
In   God's  immortal  hand  ! 


Miscellaneous. 


267 


O  blefled  !  that  appears 
When   flefhly  aids   are  spent ; 
And  girds  the  mind,  when  molt  it  faints  and   fears, 
With  truft  and  sweet  content. 

It  bids  us  caft  afide 
All  thoughts  of  lefler  powers  ; — 
Give  up  all  hopes  from  changing  time  and  tide, 
And  all  vain  will  of  ours. 

We  have  but  to  confess 
That  there's  but  one  retreat: 
And  meekly  lay  each  need  and  each  diftress 
Down  at  the  Sovereign  feet  j — 

Then,  then,  it  fills  the  place 
Of  all  we  hoped  to  do  ; 
And  sunken  Nature  triumphs  in  the  Grace, 
That  bears  us  up  and  through. 


A  better  glow  than  health 
Flumes  the  cheek  and  brow, 
The  heart  is  stout  with  store  of  nameless  wealth  : — 
We  can  do  all  things  now. 

No  less  sufficience  seek  ; 
All  counsel  less  is  wrong  ; 
The  whole  world's  force  is  poor,  and  mean,  and  weak  ;■ 
"  When  I  am  weak,  Pm  strong." 

N.   L.    Frothlngham. 


268  Miscellaneous. 


CALL   TO   THE    PRODIGAL. 

RETURN,  O   wanderer,  return, 
And  seek  thy  Father's  face  ; 
Those  new  defires  that  in  thee  burn, 
Were  kindled  by  his  grace. 

Return,   O   wanderer,  return, 

Thy   Saviour  bids  thee  live  ; 
Go  to  his  bleeding  feet  and  learn 

How  Jesus  can  forgive. 

Return,  O  wanderer,  return, 

And  wipe  away  the  tear  ; 
'Tis  God  who  says,  "No  longer  mourn,5 

Mercy  invites  thee  near. 

Collyer. 


?   ...    -.    ,    --- 


Miscellaneous.  269 


THE   MYSTERY   OF   CHASTISEMENT. 
"  We  glory  also  in  tribulations." — Remans  5  :   3. 

WITHIN  this  leaf,  to  every  eye 
So  little  worth,  doth  hidden  lie 
Moil  rare  and  subtile  fragrancy : 

Would'st  thou  its  secret  ftrength   unbind  ? 
Crufh  it,  and  thou  malt  perfume  find, 
Sweet  as   Arabia's  spicy  wind. 

In  this  dull  ftone,  so  poor,  and  bare 
Of  fhape  or  luftre,  patient  care 
Will  find  for  thee  a  jewel  rare. 

But  firft  muft  fkilful  hands  eflay, 
With  file  and  flint,  to  clear  away 
The  film,  which  hides  its  fire  from  day. 

This  leaf?  this  ftone  ?     It  is  thy  heart  : 
It  mull:  be  cruflied  by  pain  and  smart, 
It  muft  be  cleansed  by  sorrow's  art — 


270 


Miscellaneous. 


Ere  it  will  yield  a  fragrance  sweet, 
Ere  it  will  fhine,  a  jewel  meet 
To  lay  before  thy  dear  Lord's   feet. 

S.  IVilberforce. 


PROVIDENCE. 

SINCE  all  the  coming  scenes  of  time 
God's  watchful  eye  surveys, 
O  who  so  wise  to  choose  our  lot, 
And  regulate  our  ways  ? 

Since  none  can  doubt  his  equal  love, 

Immeasurably  kind, 
To  his  unerring  gracious   will, 

Be  every  wifh  refigned. 

Good  when  He  gives,  supremely  good, 

Nor  less  when  He  denies  \ 
E'en  croffes  from  his  sovereign  hand, 

Are  bleflings  in  disguise. 

Hervey. 


&&£?> 


Miscellaneous.  ill 


"MY   TIMES   ARE   IN   THY   HAND." 
Psalm  31  :   15. 

"  TV/TY  times  are  in  thy  hand," 
1VA   My  God,  I'd  have  them  there  ; 

My  life,  my  friends,  my  soul,  I  leave 
Entirely  to  thy  care. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 

Whatever  they  may  be  ; 
Pleafing  or  painful,  dark  or  bright, 

As  beft  may  seem  to  Thee. 

"My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 
Why  mould  I  doubt  or  fear  ? 

My  Father's  hand  will  never  cause 
His  child  a  needless  tear. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand," 

I'll  always  truft  in  Thee : 
And  after  death,  at  thy  right  hand 

I  mail  for  ever  be. 


272 


Miscellaneous. 


HE   LEADS    HIS   OWN. 

I  will  lead  them  in  the  paths  they  have  not  known." 

Isaiah  42  :    16. 


H 


OW   few  who,  from  their  youthful  day, 
Look  on  to  what  their  life  may  be  ; 
Painting  the  vifions  of  the  way 

In  colors  soft,  and  bright,  and  free. 
How  few  who  to  such   paths  have  brought 
The  hopes  and  dreams  of  early  thought  ! 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

The  eager  hearts,  the  souls  of  fire, 
Who  pant  to  toil  for  God  and   man  ; 

And  view  with  eyes  of  keen  defire 
The   upland  way  of  toil  and  pain  ; 

Almoft  with  scorn  they  think  of  reft, 

Of  holy  calm,  of  tranquil  breaft, 

But  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

A  lowlier  tafk  on  them  is  laid, — 
With  love  to  make  the  labor  light  ; 


Miscellaneous. 


273 


And  there  their  beauty  they  muft  fhed 

On  quiet  homes  and  loft  to  fight. 
Changed  are  their  vifions  high  and   fair, 
Yet  calm,  and  ftill,  they  labor  there  ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

The  gentle  heart  that  thinks  with  pain, 

It  scarce  can  lowlieft  talks   fulfil ; 
And,  if  it  dared   its  life  to  scan, 

Would  afk  but  pathway  low  and  ftill. 
Often  such  lowly  heart  is  brought 
To  acl:  with  power  beyond  its  thought ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

And  they,  the  bright,  who  long  to  prove, 

In  joyous  path,  in  cloudless  lot, 
How  frefh  from   earth  their  grateful  love 

Can  spring  without  a  ftain  or  spot, — 
Often  such  youthful  heart  is  given 
The  path  of  grief,  to  walk  in  Heaven  ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

What  matter  what  the  path  fhall  be  ? 

The  end  is  clear  and  bright  to  view  ; 
We  know  that  we  a  ftrength  fhall  see, 

Whate'er  the  day  may  bring  to  do, 

R 


1~a  Miscellaneous. 


We  see  the  end,  the  house  of  God, 
But  not  the  path  to  that  abode  ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 


CORRECTION    NEEDED. 

"  Wherefore  doth  a  living  man  complain,  a  man  for  the  punish- 
ment  of  his  fins  ?  " — Lamentations  3  :  39. 

WISH   not,  dear  friends,  my  pain  away  ; 
Wifh  me  a  wise  and  thankful  heart, 
With  God,  in  all  my  griefs,  to  ftay, 
Nor  from  his  loved  correction  ftart. 

The  deareft  offering  He  can  crave, 
His  portion  in  our   souls  to  prove, 
What  is  it  to  the  gift  He  gave, 
The  only  Son  of  his  dear  love  ? 

In  life's  long  fickness,  evermore 
Our  thoughts  are  toiling  to  and  fro  : 
We  change  our  pofture  o'er  and  o'er, 
But  cannot  reft,  nor  cheat  our  woe; 


Miscellaneous .  275 


Were  it  not  better  to  lie  ftill, 
Let  Him  ftrike  home,  and   bless  the  rod? 
Never  so  safe  as  when  our  will 
Yields,  undiscerned  by  all,  to  God. 

Keble. 


DETAINED  FROM  THE  SANCTUARY. 

4<  For  I  had  gone  with  the  multitude ;  I  went  with  them  to  the 
house  of  God,  with  the  voice  of  joy  and  praise,  with  a  multitude  that 
kept  holy  day." — Psalm  42  :  4. 

SWEET  Sabbath  bells  !  I  love  your  voice, — 
You  call  me  to  the  house  of  prayer  j 
Oft  have  you  made  my  heart  rejoice, 
When  I  have  gone  to  worfhip  there. 

But  now,  a  prisoner  of  the  Lord, 

His  hand  forbids,  I  cannot  go ; 
Yet  may  I  here  his  love  record, 

And  here  the  sweets  of  worfhip  know. 

Each  place  alike  is  holy  ground, 

Where  prayer  from  humble  souls  is  poured  j 
Where  praise  awakes  its  filver  sound, 

Or  God  is  filently  adored. 


2  7  6  Miscellaneous. 


His  sanctuary  is  the   heart, — 

There,  with  the  contrite,  will  he  reft  ; 
Lord,  come,  a  Sabbath   frame  impart, 

And  make  thy  temple  in  my  breaft. 


CLINGING  TO   JESUS. 

"  Seeing  then  we  have  a  great  high  p.  .est  that  is  passed  into  the 
heavens,  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession." 

Heb.  4:    14. 

HOLY  Saviour,  friend  unseen, 
Since  on  thy  arm  thou  bid'ft  me  lean, 
Help  me  throughout  life's  varying  scene, 

By  faith  to  cling  to  thee! 

Bleft  with  this  fellowmip  divine, 

Take  what  thou  wilt,  I'll  ne'er  repine  ; 

E'en  as  the  branches  to  the  vine, 

My  soul  would  cling  to  thee  ! 

Far  from  her  home,  fatigued,  oppreft, 
Here  me  has  found  her  place  of  reft  ; 
An  exile  ftill,  yet  not  unbleft, 

While  fhe  can  cling-  to  thee  ! 


Mi  s  eel  la  ncous.  2  J  J 


Oft,  when  I  seem  to  tread  alone 

Some  barren  wade  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 

Thy  voice  of  love,  in  tendered  tone, 

Whispers,  "  ftill  cling  to  me  ! " 

Though  faith  and  hope  may  oft  be  tried, 
I  afk  not,  need  not,  aught  befide  ; 
How  safe,  how  calm,  how  satisfied, 

The  soul  that  clings  to  thee ! 

Bleft  is  my  lot,  whate'er  befall ; 
What  can  difturb  me,  what  appall, 
Whilft  as  my  rock,  my  ftrength,  my  all, 

Saviour !   I  cling  to  thee  ? 


COMMITTING  THE   SOUL   TO   THE   SAVIOUR. 

"  Into  thy  hand  I  commit  my  spirit ;  thou  hast  redeemed  me,  O 
Lord  God  of  truth." — Psalm  31:5. 

MY  spirit  on  thy  care, 
Bleft  Saviour,  I  recline  ; 
Thou  wilt  not  leave  me  to  despair, 
For  thou  art  love  divine. 


Miscellaneous. 


In  thee  I   place   my  truft, 

On  thee   I   calmly   reft; 
I   know  thee  good, — I   know   thee  juft, 

And  count  thy  choice  the  best. 

Whate'er  events  betide, 

Thy  will  they  all  perform  ; 

Safe  in  thy  breaft  my  head  I  hide 
Nor  fear  the  coming  ftorm. 

Let  good  or  ill  befall, 

It  muft  be  good  for  me  ; 
Secure  of  having  thee  in  all, 

Of  having  all  in  thee. 


LORD,   I    BELIEVE. 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." — Mark  9  :  24- 

YES,   I  do   feel,  my  God,  that  I   am  thine  j 
Thou  art  my  joy — myself,  mine  only  grief; 
Hear  my  complaint,  low  bending  at  thy  fhrine, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 


Miscellaneous ,  2  79 


Unworthy,  even,  to  approach  so  near, 

My  soul  lies  trembling  like  a  summer's  leaf; 

Yet,   O   forgive  !   I  doubt  not,  though   I   fear, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;   help  thou   mine  unbelief." 

True,   I   am  weak,  ah,   very  weak  ;  but  then 
I   know  the  source  whence  I   can  draw  relief; 

And,  though  repulsed,  I   ftill  can  plead  again, — 
"  Lord,  1  believe  ;   help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

O,  draw  me  nearer  ;  for,  too  far  away, — 

The  beamings  of  thy  brightness  are  too  brief; 

While  faith,  though  fainting,  ftill  have  ftrength  to  pray, — 
"  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

Monsell 


DOWN  the  dark  future,  through  long  generations, 
The  sounds  of  war  grow  fainter,  and  then  cease  ; 
And  like  a  bell  with  solemn,  sweet  vibrations, 

I  hear  once  more  the  voice  of  Chrift  say,  "  Peace  !  " 

Peace  !  and  no  longer,  from  its  brazen  portals 
The  blaft  of  war's  great  organ  makes  the  fkies  ; 

But  beautiful  as  songs  of  the  immortals, 
The  holy  melodies  of  love  arise. 

Longfellow. 


280  Miscellaneous. 


CHRIST    UNCHANGING. 

Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  forever." 

Heb.  13:  8. 

CHANGE  is  written  everywhere, 
Time  and  death  o'er  all  are  ranging  ; 
Seasons,  creatures,  all  declare, 

Man  is  mortal,  earth  is  changing. 

Life,  and  all  its    treasures,  seem 

Like  a  sea  in  conftant  motion  ; 
Thanks  for  an  eternal  beam 

Shining  o'er  the  pathless  ocean. 

One  by  one,  although  each  name 

Providence  or  death  will  sever  ; 
Jesus  Chrift  is  ftill  the  same, 

Yefterday,  to-day,  forever. 


<$%%$ 


Miscellaneous. 


281 


"I   SHALL    BE   SATISFIED." 

NOT  here ! — not  here  !   Not  where  the  sparkling  waters 
Fade  into  mocking  sands  as  we  draw  near : 
Where  in  the  wilderness  each  footftep  falters — 
"  I   fhall  be  satisfied  ;  "  but,   O  !   not  here  ! 

Not  here — where  all  the  dreams  of  bliss  deceive  us, 
Where  the  worn  spirit  never  gains  its  goal  ; 

Where,  haunted  ever  by  the  thought  that  grieves  us, 
Across  us  floods  of  bitter  memory  roll. 

There  is  a  land  where  every  pulse  is  thrilling 
With  rapture  earth's  sojourners  may  not  know, 

Where  heaven's  repose  the  weary  heart  is  {filling, 
And  peacefully  life's  time-tofTed  currents  flow. 

Far  out  of  fight,  while  yet  the  flefh  infolds  us, 
Lies  the  fair  country  where  our  hearts  abide, 

And  of  its  bliss  is   nought  more  wondrous  told  us 
Than  these  few  words — "I  fhall  be  satisfied." 


Satisfied  !     Satisfied  !      The  spirit's  yearning 

For  sweet  companionmip  with  kindred   minds — 

The  filent  love  that  here  meets  no  returning — 
The  inspiration  which  no  language  finds — 


282  Miscellaneous. 

Shall  they  be  satisfied  ?     The   soul's  vague  longing  — 
The  aching  void  which  nothing  earthly  fills  ? 

O  !  what  defires  upon  my  soul  are  thronging 
As  I  look  upward  to  the  heavenly  hills. 

Thither  my  weak  and  weary  fteps  are  tending — 
Saviour  and  Lord!  with  thy  frail  child  abide! 

Guide  me  toward  Home,  where  all  my  wanderings  ending, 
I  shall  see  thee,  and   "Jhall  be  satisfied." 


FROM  "THE   CHERUBIC    PILGRIM," 


GOD'S 
If  I  but  like  a  rose  to  him  my  heart  unclose. 


The  Dew  and  the  Rose. 
"  ^^OD'S  spirit  falls  on  me  as  dew-drops  on  a  rose, 

The   Tabernacle. 
The     soul    wherein  God    dwells — what  church   can    holier 

be?— 
Becomes  a  walking  tent  of  heavenly  majefty. 

The  Difference. 
Ye  know  God  but  as  Lord,  hence  Lord  his  name  with  ye, 
I  feel  him  but  as  Love,  and  Love   his  name  with   me. 


Miscellaneous,  283 


Chrijl  must  be  Born  in    Thee. 
Though   Chrift  a  thousand   times  in   Bethlehem  be  born, 
If  He's  not  born  in  thee,  thy  soul  is   ftill  forlorn. 


The  Outward  Profiteth  Not. 
The  cross  on  Golgotha  will  never  save  thy  soul, 
The  cross  in  thine  heart  alone  can  make  thee  whole. 

The  only    Want's  in    Thee. 
Ah,  would  thy  heart  but  be  a  manger  for  the  birth, 
God  would  once  more  become  a  child  upon  the  earth. 

The  Seasons  of  the  Day. 
In   Heaven  is  the  day,  in  Hell  below,  the  night; 
'Tis  twilight  here  on  Earth  :  confider  this  aright ! 

The  loveliest   Tone. 
In  all  Eternity,  no  tone  can  be  so  sweet 
As  where  man's  heart  with  God  in  unison  doth  beat. 

Magnet  and  Steel. 
God  is  a  magnet  ftrong  ;   my  heart,  it  is  the  fteel, 
'Twill  always  turn  to  Him,  if  once  his  touch  it  feel. 

Love's   Transubstantiation. 
Whate'er  thou  loveft,  man,  that  too  become  thou  muft 
God — if  thou  loveft  God  ;  Duft — if  thou  loveft  duft. 


284  Miscellaneous. 


The  Well  is  Deep. 
Why  fhould'ft  thou  cry  for  drink  ?   The  fountain  is  in  thee, 
Which  so  thou  ftopp'ft  it  not,  will  flow  eternally. 

John  4 :    11. 

To   Theologians. 
Within  this  span  of  time,  God's  name  ye  will  unfold, 
Which  in  eternities  can  never  quite  be  told. 

Blejfedness. 
The  soul  that's  truly  bleft,  knows  not  of  selfifhness  ; 
She  is  one  light  with  God,  with  God  one  BlefTedness. 

Old  and  Young. 
Thou  smileft  at  the  child  that  cryeth   for  his  toys, 
Are  they  less  toys,  old  man,  that  cause  thy  griefs  and  joys  ? 

It  is  Here, 
Why  travel  over  seas  to  find  what  is  so  near  ? 
Love  is  the  only  good  ;  love  and  be  blefled  here. 

Spiritual  Sun  and  Moon. 
Be  Jesus  thou  my  Sun,  and  let  me  be  thy  moon, 
Then  will  my  darken1  night  be  changed  to  brighteft  noon. 

The  Spiritual  Mount. 
I  am  a  mount  in  God,  and  mull  myself  ascend, 
Shall  God,  to  speak  to  me,  upon  my  top  descend. 


Miscellaneous.  285 


Life  in  Death. 
In  God  alone  is  Life,  without  God  is  but  death, 
An  endless  godless  life  were  but  a  life  in  death. 

Wisdom  a  Child. 
We  afk  how  Wisdom  can  thus  play  in  children's  guise? 
Why  Wisdom  is  a  child,  so's  every  man  that's  wise. 

The  galley  and  the  Rain. 
Let  but  thy  heart,  O  man  !   become  a  valley  low, 
And  God  will  rain  on  it  till  it  will  overflow. 

Divine  Music. 
A  quiet  patient  heart  that  meekly  serves  his  Lord, 
God's  finger  joys  to  touch  ;  it  is  his  harpfichord. 

How  we  can  see  God. 
God  dwelleth  in  a  light  far  out  of  human  ken, 
Become  thyself  that  light,  and  thou  wilt  see  Him  then. 

God's  Work  and  Reft. 
God  never  yet  has  worked,  nor  did  He  ever  reft, 
His  reft  is  aye  his  work,  his  work  is  aye  his  reft. 

Great  Gifts  and  small  Receivers. 
Our  great  God  always  would  the  greateft  gifts  impart, 
If  but  his  greateft  gifts  found  not  so  small  a  heart. 


286  Miscellaneous. 


To  the  Reader. 
Let,  Reader,  this  suffice.   But  fhould'ft  thou  wifh  for  more, 
Then  read   in   thine  own  heart  a  page  of  myftic  lore. 

Angelus   Silesius. 


FROM  ALGER'S  ORIENTAL  POETRY. 

The  Beatific  Vifion. 

THE  dazzling  beauty  of  the  Loved  One  mines  unseen, 
And  self  s  the  curtain  o'er  the  road  ;  away,  O  screen  ! 

The  Luminous   Truth. 
"Who  will  give  me  his  heart,"  said  God,  "  my  love  he  (hall 

find." 
With  that  speech  a  resplendent  sun  fell  into  my  mind. 

The   Two   Travellers. 
Says  God  :  "  Who  comes  towards  Me  an  inch  through 

doubtings  dim, 
In  blazing  light  I  do  approach  a  yard  towards  him." 

All  is  Safe. 
Whatever  road  I  take,  it  joins  the  ftreet 
Which  leadeth  all  who  walk  it  Thee  to  meet. 


Miscellaneous.  28  7 


The  Divine  Judgment. 
God  aflts,   not  "  To  what  sect  did   he  belong  ?  " 
But  "  Did   he  do  the  right,  or  love  the  wrong  ?  " 

Precept  without  Practice. 
Who  learns  and  learns,  but  acts  not  what  he  knows, 
Is  one  who  ploughs  and  ploughs,  but  never  sows. 

A  Rank  in  Joys. 
My  heart!  abftain  thou  from  the  senses'  dear  wine-bowl \ 
Diviner  joys  thy  God  intends  mail  through  thee  roll. 

Nip  the  Bud. 
A  sprout  of  evil,   ere    it  has  ftruck  root, 
With  thumb  and  finger  one  up-pulls  : 
To  ftart  it,  when  grown  up  and  full  of  fruit, 
Requires  a  mighty  yoke  of  bulls. 

Swift  Opportunity. 
A  thousand  years  a  poor  man  watched 
Before  the  gate  of  Paradise  : 
But  while  one  little  nap  he  snatched, 
It  oped  and  fhut.     Ah  !  was  he  wise  ? 

Squandered  Touth. 
Ah,  five-and-twenty  years  ago  had  I  but  planted  seeds  of 

trees, 
How  now  I  mould  enjoy  their    made,  and  see    their    fruit 

swing  in  the  breeze  ! 


288  Miscellaneous. 


The  Pilgrim  to   Deity. 
Heedless,  allured,  one   moment  I   forgot  my  goal : 
A  thousand  years  it  ftretched  the  journey  of  my  soul. 

The  Pledge  and  the   Thing. 
This  life  is  a  dim  pledge  of  friendfhip  from  our  God  : 
Give  me  the  Friend,  and  the  pledge  may  fink  in  the  sod. 

Cling  not    to  aught    that  may  be  snatched    from    o'er    the 

rim  ; 
One   fairy  tale  was  all  that  Jemschid  took  with  him. 

God  All  in  All. 
Exempt  from  luft,  exempt  from  love  of  pelf, 
The  wise  man  a&s  unconscious  of  himself. 
He  cares  not  for  his  actions'  consequence, 
But  feeds  devotion's  fire  with  pure  incense. 

God   is  his  gift,  his  sacrifice  is  God  ; 
God  is  his  sacrificial  knife  and  rod, 
Himself,  his  altar,  altar's  flame,  the  sword  \ 
God  also  is  the  worfhip's  sole  reward. 


Miscellaneous.  289 


THE    BEGGAR'S    COURAGE. 

'  I  vO   heaven  approached  a  Sufi  saint, 

-*      From  groping  in  the  darkness  late, 
And,  tapping  timidly  and   faint, 
Besought  admiflion  at  God's  gate. 

Said   God,  "  Who  seeks  to  enter  here  ?  " 
"  'Tis  I,  dear  Friend,"   the  saint  replied, 

And  trembled   much  with  hope  and   feir. 
"If  it  be  thou^   without  abide." 

Sadly  to  earth  the  poor  saint    turned, 
To  bear  the  scourgings  of  life's  rods  ; 

But  aye  his  heart  within  him  yearned 
To   mix  and  lose  its  love  in  God's. 

He  roamed  alone  through  weary  years, 
By  cruel   men   ftill  scorned  and   mocked, 

Until,  from  faith's  pure  fires  and  tears, 
Again  he  rose,  and   modeft  knocked. 

Afked  God,  «  Who  now  is  at  the  door  ?  " 
"  It  is  thyself,  beloved  Lord  !  " 

Answered  the  saint,  in  doubt  no  more, 
But  clasped  and  rapt  in  his  reward. 

s 


2Q0 


Miscellaneous. 


A 


THE    SAYINGS    OF    RABIA. 

I. 
pious   friend  one  day  of  Rabia  afked 


How  (he   had  learned   the  truth  of  Allah   wholly: 
By  what  inftru&ions  was  her  memory  talked  ? 

How  was  her  heart  eftranged  from  the  world's   folly  ? 

She  answered,  "  Thou,  who  knoweft   God   in   parts, 
Thy  spirit's  moods  and  proceiTes  can  tell  : 

I   only  know  that,  in   my   heart  of  hearts, 

I  have  despised  myself,  and  loved   Him  well." 

II. 
Some  evil   upon   Rabia  fell ; 
And  one,  who  loved  and  knew  her  well, 
Murmured,  that  God,  with   pain  undue, 
Should  ftrike  a  child  so   fond  and   true. 
But  me  replied,  "  Believe  and  truft 
That  all  I   suffer  is  mod:  juft. 
I   had,   in  contemplation,   ftriven 
To  realize  the  joys  of  heaven  ; 
I  had  extended  Fancy's  flights 
Through  all  that  region  of  delights  ; 
Had  counted,  till   the  numbers   failed, 
The  pleasures  on  the  bleft  entailed  ; 
Had  sounded  the  ecftatic  reft 


Miscellaneous.  29 1 


-  I   mould   enjoy  on   Allah's  bread  ; 
And   for  those   thoughts   I   now  atone, 
They  were  of  something  of  my  own, 
kn<\  were  not  thoughts  of  Him  alone. 


III. 

When  Rabia  unto  A4ecca  came, 

She  flood  awhile  apart,  alone  ; 

Nor  joined  the  crowd,  with  hearts  of  flame, 

Collected  round  the  sacred   ftone. 

She  like  the  reft,  with  toil  had  crofTed 
The  waves  of  water,  rock,  and  sand  ; 
And  now,  as  one  long  tempeft-tofTed, 
Beheld  the   Raala's  promised  land. 

Yet  in  her  eyes  no  transport  gliftened  : 
She  seemed  with   fhame  and  sorrow  bowed  : 
The  fhouts  of  prayer  file   hardly  liftened  ; 
She  beat  her  heart,  and  cried  aloud, — 

"  O  heart !  weak  follower  of  the  weak, 
That  thou  mould'ft  traverse  land  and  sea, 
In  this  far  place  that  God  to  seek 
Who  long  ago  had  come  to  thee  !  " 


292 


Miscellaneous. 


IV. 
Round   holy   Rabia's   suffering  bed 

The  wise  men  gathered,  gazing  gravely. 
"Daughter  of  God!"  the  youngeft  said, 

u  Endure  the   Father's  chaftening  bravely  : 
They  who  have  fteeped  their  souls  in  prayer, 
Can  every  anguifh  calmly  bear." 

She  answered  not,  and  turned  afide, 

Though  not  reproachfully  or  sadly. 
"  Daughter  of  God  !  "   the  eldeft  cried, 

"  Suftain  thy  Father's  chaftening  gladly  : 
They  who  have  learned   to  pray  aright, 
From   Pain's  dark  well  draw  up  delight." 

Then  spake  (he  out,  "  Your  words  are  fair  ; 

But  oh  !   the  truth  lies   deeper  still  : 
I   know  not,   when  absorbed  in  prayer, 

Pleasure  or  pain,  or  good  or  ill : 
They  who  God's  face  can  underftand, 
Feel  not  the  workings  of  his  hand." 

"Heart  Songs.*9 


Miscellaneous.  293 


THE    TWISTER. 

"  A  twister  in  twifting  would  twift  him  a  twift, 
And,  twifting  his  twill,  seven  twifts  he  doth  twift; 
If  one  twift,  in  twifting,  untwift  from  the  twift, 
The  twift  untwifting,  untwifts  the  twift." 

A  RAVELLED  rainbow  overhead 
Lets  down  to  life  its  varying  thread  : 
Love's  blue, — joy's  gold,  —  and,   fair  between, 
Hope's  fhifting  light  of  emerald  green  ; 
With,  either  fide,  in  deep  relief, 
A  crimson   Pain,  —  a  violet  Grief. 
Would'ft  thou,  amid  their  gleaming  hues, 
Clutch  after  those,  and  these   refuse  ? 
Believe,  —  as  thy  beseeching  eyes 
Follow  their  lines,  and  sound  the  fkies, — 
There,  where  the  fadelefs   glories  mine, 
An  unseen  angel  twifts  the  twine. 

And  be  thou  sure,  what  tint  soe'er 
The  broken  rays  beneath   may  wear, 
It  needs  them  all,  that,  broad   and  white, 
God's  love  may  weave  the  perfect  light ! 

Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney. 


294  Miscellaneous. 


THE    HEAVENLY    SOWING. 

SOWER   Divine  ! 
Sow  the  good  seed  in  me, 
Seed   for  eternity. 
'Tis  a  rough   barren  soil, 
Yet  by  Thy  care  and  toil, 
Make  it  a  fruitful  field 
An   hundred  fold  to  yield. 
Sower  Divine, 
Plough   up  this  heart  of  mine  ! 

Sower   Divine  ! 

Quit  not  this   wretched  field 
Till  Thou   haft  made  it  yield  ; 
Sow  Thou  by  day  and  night, 
In  darknefs  and  in  light. 
Stay  not  Thy  hand,  but  sow  ; 
Then  (hall  the  harveft  grow. 

Sower  Divine, 

Sow  deep  this  heart  of  mine  ! 

Sower  Divine  ! 

Let  not  this  barren  clay, 
Lead  Thee  to  turn  away  ; 


Miscellaneous. 


Let  not  my   fruitlefThefs 

Provoke   Thee  not  to   blefs  ; 

Let  not  this   field   be  dry, 

Refrefh   it  from  on   high. 
Sower  Divine, 
Water   this  heart  of  mine  ! 

Rev.  Dr.  H.  Be 


ON    THE    DEATH    OF    HIS    SON. 
Lyra  Germanica. 

THO'RT   mine,  yes,  flill  thou  art  mine  own 
Who  tells   me  thou  art  loft  ? 
But  yet  thou  art  not  mine  alone, 

I  own  that  He  who  crofPd 
My  hopes,  hath  greateft  right  in  thee  ; 
Yea,  though   He  afk  and   take  from   me 
Thee,   O   my  son,   my  heart's  delight, 
My  wifh,   my  thought,  by  day  and   night. 

Ah   might  I  wifh,  ah  might  I  choose, 
Then  thou,  my  ftar,  fhould'ft  live, 

And  gladly  for  thy  sake  I'd  lose 
All  else  that  life  can  give. 

Oh   fain   Pd  say  :    Abide   with   me, 

The   sunfhine   of  my   house  to   be, 

No  other  joy  but  this  I   crave, — 

To  love  thee,  darling,  to  my  grave ! 


2<y6  Miscellaneous. 


I  bus    saith   my   heart,  and    means   it  well, 

God   meaneth  better  itill  ; 
My  love   is   more  than   words   can   tell, 

His   love   is  greater   frill  ; 
I   am  a  father,   He  the    Head 
And   Crown   of  fathers,   whence   is   fhed 
The  life   and  love   from    which   have  sprung 
All   blefled   ties  in  old  and  young. 

I   long  for  thee,   my   son,   my  own ! 

And   He  who  once  hath  given, 
Will   have  thee  now  befidc    His  throne, 

To  live  with    Him   in   Heaven. 
I   cry,  alas  !   my  light,  my   child  ! 
But   God   hath   welcome  on   him   smiled, 
And   said,   "  My   child,   I    keep   thee  near, 
For  there  is  nought   but  gladnefs   here." 

Oh   blefTed   word,  oh   deep  decree, 

More   holy  than   we  think! 
With   God   no  grief  or  woe   can  be, 

No  bitter  cup   to  drink, 
No   fickening  hopes,  no   want   or  care, 


No   hurt 

can 

ever  reach   him   there  ; 

Yes,  in 

that 

Father's   fheltered   home 

I   know 

that 

sorrow   cannot  come. 

We  pafs 

our 

nights   in   wakeful  thought 

For  our  d 

sar   children's  sake  ; 

All   dav 

our 

anxious  toil   hath   sought 

How 

beft 

for  them  to   make 

Miscellaneous.  297 


A   future  safe  from   care  or  need, 
Yet  seldom  do  our  schemes  succeed  ; 
How  seldom  does  their  future   prove 
What  we   had  planned   for  those  we  love  ! 

How  many  a  child  of  promise  fair 

Ere  now  hath   gone  aftray, 
By  ill  example  taught  to  dare 

Forsake  Chrift's  holy  way. 
Oh   fearful  the  reward   is  then, 
The   wrath  of  God,  the  scorn   of  men  ! 
The  bittereft  tears  that  e'er  are  fhed 
Are  his  who  mourns  a  child  mifled. 

But  now  I   need  not  fear  for  thee, 

Where  thou  art,  all   is   well ; 
For  thou  thy  Father's  face  doth  see, 

With  Jesus  thou  doft  dwell ! 
Yes,  cloudlefs  joys  around  him  fhine, 
His  heart  fhall   never  ache  like  mine  ; 
He  sees  the  radiant  armies  glow 
That   keep  and  guide  us   here  below. 

He  hears  their  Tinging  evermore 

His  little  voice  too  Tings, 
He  drinks  of  wisdom's  deepen:  lore, 

He   speaks  of  secret  things, 
That  we  can   never   see  or  know, 
Howe'er  we  seek  or  ftrive   below, 
While  yet  amid  the   mifts   we  ftand 
That  veil  this  dark  and  tearful  land. 


29  H  Miscellaneous. 


Oh   that   I   could   but  watch   afar, 

And   hearken  but  awhile 
To  that  sweet  song  that  hath   no  jar, 

And  see  his   heavenly  smile, 
As  he  doth   praise  the  holy  God, 
Who   made  him  pure   for  that  abode  ! 
In  tears  of  joy  full  well  I   know 
This  burdened    heart  would  overflow. 

And   I   mould  say  :   Stay  here,  my  son, 
My   wild  laments  are  o'er, 

0  well   for  thee   that  thou   haft   won, 
I   call  thee   back  no   more  ; 

But  come,  thou   fiery  chariot,  come, 
And  bear  me  swiftly   to  that  home, 
Where  he  with   many  a  loved  one  dwells, 
And  evermore  of  gladnefs  tells  ! 

Then  be  it  as  my  Father  wills, 

I   will  not  weep   for  thee  ; 
Thou  liveft,  joy  thy  spirit  fills, 

Pure  sunfhine  thou  doft  see, 
The  sunfhine  of  eternal  reft  ; 
Abide,  my  child,  where  thou  art  bleft  ; 

1  with   our  friends   will  onward   fare, 

And,  when  God   wills,   fhall   find   thee  there. 

Paul  Gerhardt.      165* 


Miscellaneous,  29^ 


QUIET    FROM    GOD. 
"If  He  giveth  quiet,  who  can  make  trouble?"  —  Job  34:  29. 

QUIET  from  God  !     It  cometh  not  to  ftill 
The  vaft  and  high  aspirings  of  the   soul, 
The  deep  emotions  which  the  spirit  fill, 
And  speed  its  purpose  onward  to  the  goal ; 
It  dims  not  youth's   bright  eye, 

Bends  not  joy's  lofty  brow, 
No  guiltlefs   ecftasy 

Need  in   its  presence  bow. 

It  comes  not  in  a  sullen  form,  to  place 

Life's  greateft  good   in  an  inglorious   reft  j 
Through  a  dull,  beaten   track  its  way  to  trace, 
And  to  lethargic  flumber  lull  the  breaft  ; 
Action  may  be  its  sphere, 

Mountain  paths — boundlefs  fields, 
O'er  billows  its  career  : 

This  is  the  power  it  yields. 

To  sojourn  in  the  world,  and  yet  apart ; 

To  dwell  with  God,  yet  ftill   with  man  to   feel  j 
To  bear  about  forever  in  the   heart 

The  gladnefs   which  His  spirit  doth  reveal  ; 


300  Miscellaneous. 


Not  to  deem  evil   gone 

From  every  earthly  scene  ; 
To   see  the  ftorm  come  on, 

But  feel   His  fhield  between. 

It  giveth   not  a  ftrength  to  human   kind, 

To  leave  all   suffering  powerlefs  at  its  feet, 
But  keeps  within  the  temple  of  the  mind 
A  golden  altar,  and  a  mercy  seat  ; 
A  spiritual  ark, 

Bearing  the   peace  of  God 
Above   the  waters  dark, 
And  o'er  the  desert's   sod. 

How  beautiful  within  our  souls  to  keep 

This  treasure,  the   All-Merciful  hath  given; 
To   feel,   when  we  awake,  and   when   we   fleep, 
Its  incense  round  us,  like  a  breeze  from  heaven 
Quiet  at  hearth  and   home, 

Where  the   heart's  joys  begin  ; 
Quiet  where'er  we  roam, 
Quiet  around,  within. 

Who  fhall   make  trouble  ?  —  not  the  evil  minds 

Which  like  a  fhadow  o'er  creation  lower, 
The  spirit  peace  hath   so  attuned,   finds 

There  feelings  that  may  own  the  Calmer's  power 
What   may  fhe   not  confer, 

E'en   where  fhe  mult  condemn  ? 
They   take   not  peace   from  her, 
She  may  speak  peace  to  them  ! 


Miscellaneous*  3<>i 


SEEN    AND    UNSEEN. 

THE   wind   ahead,  the  billows   high, 
A   whited   wave,  but  sable   fky, 
And   many  a  league  of  totting  sea, 
Between  the  hearts   I  love  and  me. 

The   wind  ahead  :   day  after  day 
These  weary  words  the  sailors  say  ; 
To  weeks  the  days  are  lengthened  now,- 
Still  mounts  the  surge  to   meet  our  prow. 

Through  longing  day   and  lingering  night 
I   ftill  accuse  Time's  lagging  flight, 
Or  gaze  out  o'er  the  envious  sea, 
That  keeps  the  hearts  I  love  from  me. 

Yet,   ah,   how  mallow   is  all  grief! 
How  inftant  is  the  deep  relief! 
And   what  a  hypocrite  am  I, 
To  feign  forlorn,  to  'plain  and  figh  ! 

The  wind  ahead  ?     The  wind  is   free  ! 
Forevermore  it  favoreth   me, — 
To  fhores  of  God   ftill  blowing  fair, 
O'er  seas  of  God  my  bark  doth  bear. 


302  Miscellaneous. 


This  surging  brine  /  do  not  sail, 
This  blaft  adverse  is  not  my  gale  ; 
'Tis  here  I  only  seem  to  be, 
But  really  sail  another  sea, — 

Another  sea,  pure  fky  its  waves, 

Whose  beauty  hides  no  heaving  graves, — 

A  sea  all  haven,  whereupon 

No  haplefs  baric  to  wreck  hath  gone. 

The  winds  that  o'er  my  ocean  run, 
Reach   through  all  heavens  beyond   the  sun  ; 
Through  life  and  death,  through  fate,  through  time. 
Grand  breaths  of  God  they  sweep  sublime. 

Eternal  trades,  they  cannot  veer, 
And  blowing,  teach   us  how  to  fteer  ; 
And  well  for  him  whose  joy,  whose  care, 
Is  but  to  keep  before  them  fair. 

Oh,  thou   God's  mariner,  heart  of  mine, 
Spread  canvas  to  the  airs  divine  ! 
Spread  sail  !  and  let  thy  Fortune  be 
Forgotten   in  thy  Deftiny  ! 

For  Deftiny  pursues  us  well, 

By  sea,  by  land,  through  heaven  or  hell ; 

It  suffers  Death  alone  to  die, 

Bids  life  all  change  and  chance  defy. 


Aliscellaneous. 


3°3 


Would  earth's  dark  ocean   suck  thee  down  ? 
Earth's   ocean  thou,   O    Life,   {halt  drown, 
Shalt   flood   it  with  thy  finer  wave, 
And,  sepulchred,  entomb  thy   grave ! 

Lute  loveth  life  and  good  :   then  trufl: 
What  moft  the  spirit  would,  it  muft  ; 
Deep  wifhes,  in  the  heart  that  be, 
Are  bloflbms  of  neceflity. 

A  thread  of  Law  runs  through   thy  prayer, 
Stronger  than  iron  cables  are  ; 
And  Love  and  Longing  toward  her  goal, 
Are  pilots  sweet  to  guide  the  soul. 

So  Life  muft  live,   and   Soul  muft  sail, 
And  Unseen  over  Seen  prevail, 
And  all  God's  argofies  come  to  fhore. 
Let  ocean  smile,  or  rage  and  roar. 

And  so,  'mid  ftorm  or  calm,  my  bark 
With  snowy  wake  ftill  nears  her  mark  ; 
Cheerly  the  trades  of  being  blow, 
And  sweeping  down  the  wind  I  go. 

D.  A.  Wajfon. 


3°4 


Miscellaneous* 


CHEERFULNESS. 

BE   merry,   man,   and  talc  not  sair  to   mind 
The  wavering  of  this  wretched  world  of  sorrow 
To  God   be   humble,   to  thy    friend   be   kind, 

And   with   thy  neighbours  gladly  lend  and   borrow  ; 
His   chance  to-night,  it   may  be  thine  to-morrow. 
Be   blyth   in   hearte   for  my  aventure, 

For  oft  with   wise   men   it   has  been   said   aforow, 
Without  Gladnefs  availes  no  Treasure. 

Make  thee  gude  cheer  of  it   that  God   thee  sends  ; 

For  warld's  gain   without  health    naught  avails  ; 
Nae  gude  is  thine  save  only  that  thou  spends^ 

Remanant  all  thou  bruikes  but  with   bails  ; 

Seek   to  solace  when   sadnefs   thee  afTails  ; 
In  dolour  long  thy  life   may  not  endure, 

Wherefore  of  comfort  set  up  all   thy  sails  ; 
Without  Gladnefs  availes  no  Treasure. 


Follow  on   pity,   flee  trouble  and  debate, 
With   famous   folkes   hald   thy   company; 

Be   charitable  and   hum'le   in   thine   eftate, 
For  warldly   honour  laftes  but  a  day. 
For  trouble  in  earth   tak  no   melancholy  ; 


Miscellaneous.  305 


Be  rich  in  patience,  if  thou  in  gudes  be  poor; 

Who  lives   merrily  he  lives  mightily; 
Without  Gladnefs  availes  no  Treasure. 

William  Dunbar.      1 479- 1 520. 


FORGIVENESS. 

THE  faireft  action  of  our  human  life 
Is  scorning  to  revenge  an  injury; 
For  who  forgives  without  a  further  flrife, 
His  adversary's  heart  to   him  doth  tie. 
And  'tis  a  firmer  conqueft  truly  said, 
To  win  the  heart  than  overthrow  the  head. 

If  we  a  worthy  enemy  do  find, 

To  yield  to  worth  it  muft  be  nobly  done  ; 
But  if  of  baser  metal  be  his  mind, 

In  base  revenge  there  is  no  honour  won. 
Who  would  a  worthy  courage  overthrow, 
And  who  would  wreftle  with  a  worthlefs  foe  ? 

We  say  our  hearts  are  great,  and  cannot  yield  ; 

Because  they  cannot  yield,  it  proves  them   poor  : 
Great   hearts  are  tafk'd  beyond  their  power,  but  seld 
The  weakeft  lion  will  the  loudefr.  roar. 
Truth's  school  for  certain  doth  this  same  allow,  — 
Hi^h-heartednefs  doth   sometimes  teach  to  bow. 


306  Miscellaneous. 


A  noble  heart  doth  teach  a  virtuous  scorn  : 

To   scorn   to  owe  a  duty  overlong  j 
To  scorn  to  be  for  benefits  forborne  ; 

To  scorn  to  lie,  to  scorn  to  do  a  wrong  ; 
To  scorn  to   bear  an  injury  in  mind  ; 
To  scorn  a  free-born  heart,  flave-like  to  bind. 

But  if  for  wrongs  we  needs  revenge  muft  have, 

Then  be  our  vengeance  of  the  nobleft  kind  : 
Do  we   his  body  from  our  fury  save, 

And  let  our  hate  prevail  againft  his  mind  ? 
What  can   'gainft  him  a  greater  vengeance  be, 
Than   make  his  foe  more  worthy  far  than  he  ? 

Lady  Elizabeth  Carew.      161 3. 


Miscellaneous.  307 


PATIENCE. 

PATIENCE!     Why,  'tis  the  soul  of  peace: 
Of  all  the  virtues,  'tis  nearer!  kin  of  heaven  : 
It  makes  men  look  like  gods.     The  beft  of  men 
That  e'er  wore  earth  about  him  was  a  sufferer, — 
A  soft,  meek,  patient,  humble,  tranquil  spirit; 
The  firft  true  gentleman  that  ever  breathed. 

Thomas  Dekkar.      1 630. 


GOD. 


SHAKE  hands  with  earth,  and  let  your  soul  respect 
Her  joys  no  farther,  than  her  joys  reflect 
Upon  her  Maker's  glory  ;   if  thou  swim 
In  wealth,  see  Him   in  all  ;  see  all  in   Him  : 
Sink'ft  thou  in  want,  and  is   thy  small  cruise  spent  ? 
See  Him  in  want,  enjoy  Him  in  content  ; 
Conceiv'ft  Him  lodg'd  in  crofs,  or  loft  in  pain  ? 
In  prayer  and  patience  find  Him  out  again. 

Francis  £hiarles. 


308  Miscellaneous. 


HEAVEN. 

THER  is  lyf  withoute   ony  deth, 
And  ther  is  youthe  without  ony  elde; 
And  ther  is  alle   manner  welthe  to  welde  : 
And   ther  is  reft  without  ony  travaille  ; 
And  ther  is  pees  without  ony  ftrife, 
And  ther  is  alle  manner  lykinge  of  lyf :  — 
And   ther  is  bright  somer  ever  to  se, 
And  ther  is  nevere  wynter  in  that  countrie  :  — 
And  ther  is  more  worfhipe  and  honour, 
Than  evere  hade  kynge  other  emperour. 
And  ther  is  grete  melodie  of  aungeles  songe, 
And  ther  is  preyfing  hem  amonge. 
And  ther  is  alle  manner  frendfbipe  that  may  be, 
And  ther  is  evere  perfect  love  and  charite  ; 
And  ther  is  wisdom  without  folye, 
And  ther  is  honefte  without  vileneye. 
Al  these  a  man   may  joyes  of  hevene  call  ; 
Ac  yutte   the  moft  sovereyn  joye  of  alle 
Is  the  fighte  of  Godde's  bright  face, 
In  wham   refteth   alle  mannere  grace. 

Richard  Rolle.      About  1350. 


Miscellaneous.  309 


LOVE. 

O  WEDDING-GUEST!  this  soul  hath  been 
Alone  on  a  wide,  wide  sea  ; 
So  lonely  'twas,  that  God  himself 
Scarce  seemed  there  to  be. 

O  sweeter  than  the  marriage-feaft, 

'Tis  sweeter  far  to  me, 
To  walk  together  to  the  kirk 

With  a  goodly  company ! 

To  walk  together  to  the  kirk, 

And  all  together  pray, 
While  each  to  his  great  Father  bends  : 

Old  men,  and  babes,  and  loving  friends, 

And  youths  and  maidens  gay  ! 

Farewell,  farewell  ;  but  this  I  tell 

To  thee,  thou   wedding-gueft ; 
He  prayeth  well  who  loveth  well 

Both  man  and  bird  and  beaft. 

He  prayeth  beft  who  loveth  beft 

All   things  both  great  and  small ; 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 

He  made  and  loveth  all. 

Coleridge. 


Miscellaneous. 


HEAR  what  God,  the  Lord,  hath  spoken: 
O   my  people,  faint  and  few, 
Comfortless,  afflicted,  broken, 

Fair  abodes  I  build  for  you  ; 
Scenes  of  heartfelt  tribulation 

Shall  no  more  perplex  your  ways  ; 

You  fhall  name  your  walls  salvation, 

And  your  gates  fhall  all  be  praise. 

There,  like   ftreams  that  feed   the  garden 

Pleasures  without  end   (hall  flow  ; 
For  the  Lord,  your  faith  rewarding, 

All  his  bounty  fhall  beftow  : 
Still  in   undifturbed   pofTeflion 

Peace  and  righteousness   fhall  reign  ; 
Never  fhall  you  feel  oppreffion, 

Hear  the  voice  of  war  again. 

Ye,  no  more  your  suns  descending 
Waning:  moons  no  more  fhall  see  ; 

a 

But  your  griefs  forever  ending, 

Find  eternal  noon  in  me  : 
God  fhall  rise,  and  mining  o'er  you, 

Change  to  day  the  gloom  of  night ; 
He,  the  Lord,  fhall  be  your  glory, 

God  your  everlafting  light. 

Cowper. 


INDEX   TO   FIRST   LINES. 


♦ 

PAGE 

A  pious  friend  one  day  of  Rabia  afked 290 

Ah  !  dearest  Lord  !  I  cannot  pray 69 

All  ye  who  seek  a  certain  cure 79 

All  ye  who  seek,  in  hope  and  love 99 

Answer  with  all  thy  pulses,  throb  and  speak 234 

At  the  Cross  her  station  keeping 129 

Banished  the  House  of  sacred  rest  .     . 191 

Bright  Angels  who  attend 30 

Bright  Cherubim  and  Seraphim 98 

Bright  were  the  mornings  first  impearl'd 97 

Change  is  written  every  where 280 

Cheer  up  desponding  soul 28 

Christ  to  the  young  man  said  :  Yet  one  thing  more     ....  261 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  and  through  each  heart 8 

Come  my  soul  awake  'tis  morning 172 

Come,  O  Creator  Spirit  blest 20 

Come  wandering  sheep,  O  come 73 

Cometh  sunshine  after  rain 158 

Creator  Spirit,  by  whose  aid 52 

Darker  and  darker  fall  around 127 


312  Index. 

PAGE 

Dear  Angel  !  ever  at  my  side 125 

Dear  Soul,  couldst  thou  become  a  child 145 

Deepen  the  wounds  thy  hands  have  made 220 

Depart  awhile  each  thought  of  care 19 

Do  not  cheat  thy  heart,  and  tell  her 247 

Down  the  dark  future,  through  long  generations 279 

Earth  with  her  ten  thousand  flowers 250 

Ere  the  morning's  busy  ray 227 

Eternity,  Eternity! 147 

Exempt  from  lust,  exempt  from  love  of  pelf 288 

Faith  of  our  Fathers!  living  still 29 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life 229 

Father,  in  thy  mysterious  presence  kneeling 242 

Father  of  lights  !  one  glance  of  thine 115 

Fear  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 143 

Five  loving  souls,  each  one  as  mine 205 

From  highest  Heaven,  the  Father's  Son 119 

God  liveth  ever 150 

God's  Spirit  falls  on  me         .     .                     282 

God,  Thou  art  my  Rock  of  strength 165 

God  whom  I  as  love  have  known 175 

Grant  us  a  body  pure  within          17 

Great  Framer  of  the  earth  and  sky 6 

Hark  my  soul  how  every  thing 232 

Have  mercy  Thou,  most  gracious  God 36 

He  is  a  path  if  any  be  misled     ...               231 

Head  of  the  Hosts  in  glory 95 

Hear  what  God,  the  Lord,  hath  spoken 310 

Hear'st  thou  my  soul  what  serious  things 47 

Holy  Saviour,  friend  unseen :-6 

Holy  Spirit!  Lord  of  Light 51 


Index, 


3'3 


PAGE 

Holy  and  innocent  were  all  his  ways 114 

How  few  who  from  their  youthful  day 272 

I  come  to  Thee  to-night 223 

I  love  my  God  but  with  no  love  of  mine 247 

I  think  when  I  read  the  sweet  story  of  old 240 

I  want  the  spirit  of  power  within 244 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go 157 

I  worship  thee,  sweef  Will  of  God 45 

In  caves  of  the  lone  wilderness  thy  youth 100 

In  having  all  things  and  not  Thee,  what  have  I 231 

It  is  not  life  upon  thy  gifts  to  live        241 

It  is  the  fall  of  eve 217 

Jerusalem,  thou  City  blest 120 

Jesu.  I  my  Cross  have  taken 32 

Jesu,  the  very  thought  of  Thee " 75 

Jesus,  the  only  thought  of  Thee 245 

Just  as  I  am!  without  one  plea 221 

Leave  God  to  order  all  thy  ways 170 

Let  us  arise  and  watch  ere  dawn  of  light 9 

Lift  up  your  hearts 43 

Lift  up  your  heads  ye  mighty  gates 141 

Light!   Light!  Infinite  Light  ! 74 

Light  of  the  soul,  O  Saviour  blest 84 

Lo  !  cast  at  random  on  the  wild  sea  sand 212 

Lo  !  fainter  now  lie  spread  the  shades  of  night 11 

Lo  !  He  comes  with  clouds  descending 89 

Lo  !  on  the  slope  of  yonder  shore ic6 

Lo  !  upon  the  altar  lies 116 

Look  westward,  pensive  little  one 200 

Lord,  I  have  fasted,  I  have  prayed 186 

Lord,  in  this  dust  thy  sovereign  voice 182 

Lord  of  all  power  !  at  whose  command 55 


Index. 


PAGE 

Lord  of  eternal  purity 22 

Lord  of  eternal  truth  and  might 8 

Lord  what  a  change  within  us  one  short  hour 237 

Lovely  flowers  of  martyrs,  hail M4 

Most  High  and  Holy  Trinity l63 

My  child,  the  counsels  high  attend *95 

My  God,  accept  my  heart  this  day    .     .• 31 

My  God,  I  love  Thee  not  because 37 

My  Saviour  what  Thou  didst  of  old lSS 

My  smile  is  bright,  my  glance  is  free l89 

My  Soul!  what  hast  thou  done  for  God 6l 

My  spirit  longeth  for  Thee 27 

My  spirit  on  thy  care 277 

My  times  are  in  thy  hand 27x 

Nigher  still,  and  still  more  nigh 85 

No  track  is  on  the  sunny  sky x33 

Not  here,  not  here,  not  where  the  sparkling  waters 281 

Now  at  the  Lamb's  high  royal  feast 83 

Now  doth  the  sun  ascend  the  sky 4 

Now  let  us  sit  and  weep 78 

Now  rests  her  soul  in  Jesus'  arms *76 

Now  while  the  herald  bird  of  day J4 

Now  with  the  rising  golden  dawn l6 

O  all  ye  who  pass  by,  whose  eyes  and  mind 254 

O  blessed  Saint,  of  snow-white  purity io5 

O  blest  Creator  of  the  light 3 

O  bounteous  Framer  of  the  globe 5° 

O  Captain  of  the  Martyr  Host I04 

O  Christ !  the  beauty  of  the  angel  worlds IGI 

O  come  and  mourn  with  me  awhile 8  r 

O  Faith  !  thou  workest  miracles 34 

O  for  the  happy  days  gone  by 


Index. 


vs 


PAGE 

O  Friend  of  souls,  how  well  is  me 168 

O  Heart  of  fire!  misjudged  by  wilful  man 187 

O  Holy  Ghost,  Thou  fire  divine 161 

O  how  I  fear  Thee,  living  God 26 

O  how  the  thought  of  God  attracts 23 

Oh  how  we  pine  for  truth  for  something  more 236 

O  it  is  hard  to  work  for  God     .     . "  . 39 

O  Jesu  !  Thou  the  beauty  art 77 

O  Jesus  f  King  most  wonderful     • 76 

Oh  Lord  !  how  happy  should  we  be 228 

Oh  that  it  were  as  it  was  wont  to  be 92 

O  Thou  pure  light  of  souls  that  love  , 87 

O  Thou  the  Father's  Image  blest 10 

O  Thou  true  life  of  all  that  live •     .     .     .       9 

O  Thou  whose  wise  paternal  Love 246 

Oh  turn  those  blessed  points,  all  bathed 91 

Onward  Christian,  through  the  region 243 

O  watchman  will  the  night  of  sin 139 

O  weep  for  them  who  never  knew .262 

Oh  what  a  load  of  struggle  and  distress 235 

Our  limbs  with  tranquil  sleep  refresh'd 5 

Perfect  in  love,  Lord  can  it  be 239 

Preserve,  my  Jesus,  oh  preserve 117 

Prune  thou  thy  words,  the  thoughts  control      .......  1 85 

Pure  Light  of  light !  eternal  Day .     .  13 

Pure,  meek,  with  soul  serene 108 

Return,  O  wanderer,  return 268 

Rise,  glorious  Conqueror,  rise 93 

Rock  of  Ages,  rent  for  me 88 

Round  holy  Rabia's  suffering  bed 292 

She  once  was  a  lady  of  honor  and  wealth        in 

Shed  kindly  light  amid  the  encircling  gloom 184 


316 


Index. 


PAGE 

Since  all  the  coming  scenes  of  time 270 

Sing  we  the  peerless  deeds  of  martyr'd  Saints        102 

Soil  not  thy  plumage,  gentle  dove 12 

Soldiers  of  Christ!  arise        59 

Some  evil  upon  Rabia  fell 290 

Star  of  the  wide  and  pathless  sea 131 

Still,  still  with  Thee,  when  purple  morning  breaketh  .     .     .     .  260 

Sweet  Sabbath  bells,  I  love  your  voice 275 

Tear  not  away  the  veil,  dear  friend 202 

The  Church  is  one  wide  harvest  field 204 

The  dazzling  beauty  of  the  loved  one 286 

The  light  of  love  is  round  his  feet ...  56 

The  Lord's  eternal  gifts 103 

The  night  is  come,  like  to  the  day 226 

The  night  is  dark — behold  the  shade  was  deeper 251 

The  pall  of  night  o'ershades  the  earth 21 

The  peace  which  God  bestows 264 

The  silver  chord  in  twain  is  snapp'd 44 

The  star  that  heralds  in  the  morn 18 

Thee  in  the  hymns  of  morn  we  praise 22 

There  is  a  calm  the  Poor  in  Spirit  know 233 

There  is  not  on  the  earth  a  soul  so  base 181 

They  who  seek  the  throne  of  grace 238 

Thou  art  of  all  created  things 135 

Thou  Grace  divine,  encircling  all 222 

Thou  loving  Maker  of  mankind 54 

Thy  word,  O  Lord,  like  gentle  dews 153 

To  Christ,  the  Prince  of  Peace 80 

To  heaven  approached  a  Sufi  saint 289 

To  the  hall  of  that  feast  came  the  sinful  and  fair 60 

Two  hands  upon  the  breast 249 

Upon  our  fainting  souls  distil 17 


Index. 


3*7 


PAGE 

We  need  some  Charmer,  for  our  hearts  are  sore 257 

We  watch'd,  as  she  linger'd  all  the  day 109 

What  time  the  Saviour  spread  his  feast 196 

When  Heaven  in  mercy  gives  thy  prayers  return 199 

When  I  am  weak,  I'm  strong 266 

When  I  look  back  upon  my  former  race 184 

When  I  sink  down  in  gloom  or  fear 190 

When  Rabia  into  Mecca  came 291 

When  thou  dost  talk  with  God 71 

When  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean 259 

What  is  the  Church,  and  what  am  I 207 

While  Thou,  O  my  God,  art  my  help  and  defender       ....  49 

Why  deck  the  high  cathedral  roof 211 

Why  dost  thou  beat  so  quick,  my  heart        64 

Why  haltest  thus  deluded  heart 166 

Why  is  thy  face  so  lit  with  smiles 122 

Why  should  we  grudge  the  hour  and  house  of  prayer  .     .     .     .  213 

Wish  not  dear  friends  my  pain  away       274 

Within  this  leaf  to  every  eye 269 

Ye  mist  and  darkness,  cloud  and  storm        15 

Yes,  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  thine 278 

Supplement  to  Index. 

A  ravelled  rainbow  overhead 293 

Be  merry,  man,  and  tak  not  sair  to  mind 304 

O  wedding-guest !  this  soul  hath  been 309 

Patience!     Why, 'tis  the  soul  of  peace 307 

Quiet  from  God  !     It  cometh  not  to  still 299 

Shake  hands  with  earth,  and  let  your  soul  respect 307 

Sower  Divine ! 294 

The  wind  ahead,  the  billows  high 301 

The  fairest  action  of  our  human  life 305 

Ther  is  lyf  withoute  ony  deth 308 

Tho'rt  mine,  yes,  still  thou  art  mine  own  ! 295 


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